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ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 



-BY 



GEO. H. HOLLIDAY 



Late Serg't. Co. G., Sixth W. Ya. Yet. Yol.. Cavalry. 



Twelve Months in the Volunteer Cavalry Service, among the Indians 
of Nebraska, Colorado, Dakota, Wyoming, and Montana. 







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"Then we started; Pell mell up the river we went." 

Thrilling Adventures, Fine Scenery, and How the Boys Put in the 

Time in the Far West. 



DEDICATED TO THE 



Grand Army Republic 



BY THE AUTHOR. 



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^ 4K 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

7<^ 






■BY 



GEO. H. HOLLIDA\ 



7 



Late Ssrg'c. Cc. a., Sixth V/. Va. Yet. Vol. Cavalr-y. 



Twelve Months in the Volunteer Cavalry Service, among the Indians 
of Nebraska, Colorado, Dakoia, Wyoming, and I^onS:ana. 



Tl rilling Adventures, Fine Scenery, and How the Boys Piit in the 

Time in the Far West. 



Y. 



DEDICATED TO THE 




Grand Army Republic 



BY THE AUTHOR. 



l^ntercd according to tlie act or (Jongicss in the I^ibmrlauV. Ottiee, ut Washiiifrton, 

D. (.\, in tlic year ISS!. 






i 

I 






-<1PREFACE.1> 



The author of this work enlisted at the age of jifteen years, and 
served through the war of the Rebellion. At the close of the war his 
regiment, with a few other volunteer regiments, was ordered to the 
Rocky Mountains to assist in protecting the frontier, guarding the 
overland stage line,, running the mails through to the remote North- 
west, and in protecting the Government posts along the North Platte 
river. During the winter of 1865 he was severely frozen while in 
active service in Wyoming, from which he has never recovered. He 
trusts that his little book will be read with interest by the old vets, 
of the late war, for whom he entertains in his heart a sincere love, 
which increases with his declining years. 

Yours in F. C. L., 

THE AUTHOR. 




♦ 



"Back to the States. 



CHAPTER I. 



Westward Ho!-— After Lee's Surrender— -Troops en Route for the 
Plains---A Glance Backward—A Fearful Collision---An Ex-Rebel 
Captain tlie Cause— All our Horses Thrown from a High Trestle 
Work— A Larg-e Number of Soldiers Killed. 



Time passes rapidly by, ana we are whirled od, on, passing mile- 
'Stone after milestone, until a greater part of the journey of life is 
passed. We look ahead, not heedinyf the stations as the3^ are passed, 
until we are appalled at the irresistible speed at which we have been 
driven. 

And now we attempt to review the journey, casting longing glance 
back over the road which fate has compelled us to travel. We count 
a score of milestones — yea, forty, sixty, it may be three score and t<^n 
— ^and we are warned that we are about to enter the Great Union De- 
pot — the end of the journey of life. 

As I sit do'vvn to write, my mind involuntarily wanders back to 
the dark days of the war for the Union. I review again the army of 
the Potomac. I seem to hear the tramp, tramp, tramp of tired feet. 
I hear again the iron hoofs of a legion of war horses, as they tread 
all through the long night over the stony street. I hear again the 
sound of musketry and the roar of battle. I see the smoke spreadijQg 
over the battle field like a funeral veil. Then again I seem to hear 
the groans and sighs of wounded and dying men. I see them borne 
from the fatal field by tender hands. I hear their piteous prayers 
for mercy as they pass, mingled with the endearing words of mother, 
sister, and of loved ones at home. 

But now look ! See, the battle is on ! There they charge; on, on— 
now they are checked by a volley, only for one instant; their ranks 
are thinned. But no matter, on they charge, into the very jaws of 
death. Now the rebel lines are broken — they flee. The battle is 
ours. The air is rent with the shout of victory. 

No pen can describe, no tongue can tell it. Bat now, after a lapse 
of fifteen years, in the far off distance, I seem to hear the dying 
echoes of the roar and din of a dozen battles. Again I recount hair- 



6 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

breadth escape?^, loDg dreary marches by day and by night. Priva- 
ticms and hardships that can never be told. Camping at night in 
dense snow storms or drenching rains, with nothing but the canopy 
of heaven as a shelter. 

Then again I cross deep streams filled with floating ice, until the 
chillir>g waters reach the back of my tired and jaded horse. 

lu short, the scenes and privations, the bitter and sweet of over 
three years in the saddle, passed before my mind as though it were 
a dream of last nit^ht, or a tale that were told. 

And now as 1 sit at my own fireside, surrounded by a loving wife 
and little children, I can scarcely realize that seventeen years have 
paa^td since then, and that I, who now love so well the quiet and 
pf'Hce of my own family circle, am the same boy of seventeen years 
ago — then so reckless of life, with nothing to care for — save my own 
country. 

Passing thus hastily over an experience which would make mate- 
rial for a volume of interesting reading, and one such as almost any 
soldier could furnish, I come to the final end of the Rebellion. 

The battle is fought and won. and now the boys, with glad hearts 
and proud spirits, are returning home. A great assemblage of the 
victorious armi&s is ordered to take place at Washington. For three 
looiT days brigade after brigade, division after division, corps after 
corps, marchtKl down Pennsylvania avenue by platoons, passing the 
White Hou-^e, where they were reviewed by President Johnson and 
Cabinet, and all the foreign ministers then in the United States. 

This "Grind Review" was one of the most magnificent sp ecta- 
cles ever seen in the world, and will always have a reserved seat in 
my memory as thp grandest scene of my life. 

My r< giment was the Sixth West Virginia Veteran Cavalry, for- 
merly the old Sf^cond and Third West Virginia Mounted Infantry. A 
lar^^e pn)portion of this regiment had enlisted at the •' first call " and 
had " seen her through," as they expressed it. And when it became 
known that we were ordered across the plains to assist in squashing 
the hostile tribes of Indians then on the war path in Dakota, Wyo- 
ming and Montana, instead of being mustered out as were hun- 
dreds of regiments whose service had not been half so long and hard 
as ours, the wrath and indigrnation of some of the older men, who 
had family ties at home, knew no bounds. But with many of us 
younger boys the news was received with demonstrations of joy. 

Visions of "scalps," wild "ponies," " buflfalos," and love among 
the little "squaws" — perhaps marriage among some of the dusky 
daughters of the Rocky Mountains. And then fighting Indians 
would be child's play compared with the stern realities of war 
through which we had just passed. All these and many other pious 
thoughts filled our young minds until we really feared that the pro- 
tests of the older members of the regiment might prevail and the 
order be countermandKl. 

Leaving Washington City about the 16th of June, 1865, with all our 
horses and equipments of war packed into a train of box and hog 
cars, via. the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, we found ourselves in 
full sail for the Great West, to engage In a new kind of warfare. 

After being a few hours on the road we began to notice fresh signs 



ON THJbJ PLAINS IN '65. 7 

of devastation and general ruin in many of the little and some of the 
large towns through which we passed. 

"I'll bet my life," said one of the boys, " that a New York regi- 
ment has passed over this road within the pi-ist few days." Whisky 
shops were gutted, groceries und peanut stands were riddled, and in 
fact everything presented the appearance of having passed through a 
hurricane, or perhaps been shaken by an earthquake. 

Our train stopped at Grafton, where the storm seemed to have 
struck its hardest blow, and we asked a dejected looking man, who 
seemed to have forcibly retired irom business, the cause of hU the 
smashed up stores. "Don't ye know? Why, the Twenty-first New 
York Cavalry stopped here about fifteen minutes yesterday, and here 
it is. It shows for itself. But I reckon the Government will make 
it all right." 

And Our train moved out, leaving the broken merchant cus5ing 
all soldiers in general and New York troops in particular. ISo then 
we learned for the first time that this " bummer" regiment was be 
fore us, and that they, too, were en route for the plains. This was 
not cheering news for the boys, for we had a great contempt for this- 
regiment, whose subsequent history I will detail further on. ' 

The summer of 1864, '5 and '6 marked a period of unusual peril to 
the daring pioneers seeking homes in the Far West. Following 
upon the horrible massacres in Minnesota in 1863, and the subse- 
quent chastisements inflicted by the expeditions under Generals Sib- 
ley and Sulleb in 1864, whereby the Indians were driven from the 
then western borders ot civilization in Iowa and Minnesota, and the 
white settlements of Dakota, in the Missouri Valley, the great emi- 
grant trails to Idaho and Montana became the scenes of fresh out- 
rages, and from the wild and almost inaccessible nature of the coun- 
try, pursuit and punishment was almost impossible. 

Then the Government had been sorely taxed in her efforts to put 
down the Rebellion, and the red men of the plains had had their 
own way to a great extent. But now the war in the South had come 
to an end, and Uncle Sam turned his attention to the wild boys of 
the West, who had been so unruly while the "Great Father" was 
chastizing his subjects in the South. 

Little did any of the four hundred men who composed all that was 
left of that once proud and magnificent regiment think of the hard- 
ships and perils that were m store for them in the land of the setting 
sun. Many who were of that little regiment died of scurvy, others 
were frozen to death in the mountains, while others were killed and 
their scalps now ornament the walls of the "tepe" of the noble red 
man. 

But vye go back to Parkersburg. Here we unshipped our sti ffand hun- 
gyy horses from their railroad prison, as we had don§ many times be- 
fore. We crossed the Ohio and many of us were in our native State, 
for the first time for many months. 

What a difi'erence we found in the hospitality of Virginia and Ohio 
people ! Talk of your boasted Virginia hospitality ! Perhaps Vir- 
ginia had had her stomach overloaded with troops, and the burden 
had made her sick of them. Be that as it may, we met with the very 
kindest of treatment all along the line of the M. and C. R. R., not- 



8 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

withstanding the aforesaid New York bummers had passed over the 
road just ahead of us, and had grossly insulted and mistreated the 
good people, who mistook them for a part of the Army of the Poto- 
mac, and wantwl to treat them kindly. 

At many of the towns along the road our train was stopped, where 
great kettles of hot coffee and bean soup until you couldn't rest (never 
turn a cold shoulder on bean soup, boys,) had t>een prepared, and 
thousands of piea and cords of ginger bread were lying in reserve for 
us. Our stomachs being entire strangers to the latter, we found some 
trouble in introducing the rich strangers, and more trouble in main- 
taining the new acquaintances. At any rate, some of the boys be- 
came, as they declared, " sea sick," while others asserted that in their 
" hcnest opinion they had been pizened by Buckeyes." But I think 
now that the facts in the case were that pine top whisky, bean soup, 
coffee, dried apple pies and ginger bread, thoroughly stirred up by 
the motion of the cars over a rough road, was a combination of deli- 
cacies never intended by nature to lay tranquilly on the craw of 
even a soldier. And unless that railroad company used those cars 
immediately after we vacated them for shipping hogs, they certainly 
lost money in that transportation of troops. 

' At Cincinnati we were joined by the Third Massachusetts Cavalry, 
Fourteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry, and Twenty-first New York Cav- 
alry, all destined for the seat of the Indian hostilities in the West, 
and under Major General Frank Wheaton. 

A night parade through the streets of the Queen City, then a camp 
during the remainder of the night on the streets, and next morning 
we were loaded into three trains bound for St. Louis via. the Ohio 
and Mississippi Railroad. 

Had not a dreadful collision occurred near Carlisle, 111., in which 
we lost several men and nearly all our horses, the trip would not be 
worth noticing. Reader, have you ever witnessed a collision of 
railroad trains loaded with soldiers and ail their munitions of war, 
together with several hundred horses? If not, don't pine for the 
spectacle. It is one of those things which it is easier to imagine than 
look upon. 

Collins Station is a little village on the O. and M. R. R., and is 
situate three miles east of Carlisle, a thriving town on the same road. 

It was eleven o'clock at night when our train halted at Collins 
Station to await orders. We were an extra train and running "out 
of time." The order soon came to run down to Carlisle and pass an 
east bound train lyiug on the switch. 

About the same moment the conductor of the east bound train 
received an order to wait on the siding until our train would pass. 
He was told by the operator who gave him the order that the west 
bound train was loaded with "Yankee troops." 

Uhis conductor had but a few months before held a commission as 
captain in a Missouri rebel regiment, and of course still held a grudge 
against the men who had borne a part in wiping out his little South- 
ern Confederacy. In tact, his treacherous heart yearned for revenge. 

Here was such an opportunity as would never be afforded again. 
Stepping down to his engineer, he ordered him to run with all speed 



OH TH]E PLAIISTS I^ '85. 9 

up to Collins Station, where he would pass an extra freight on the 
sidihg. 

Immediately his train moved on to the main track, making: all 
speed for Collins Station. So it will be seen that the two trains left 
the two stations about the same moment^ each engineer thinking that 
he is to make good time, and that the other is waiting for him to 
pass. 

Halfway between the towns is a trestle work a half-mile in length 
across a vast swamp. On this the collision occurred. 

But I can better describe the scene by my own observation and 
personal experience. It was now midnight, and dark as Egypt. 
Nearly every man on our train was in the " land of repose." We 
were in box cars. Behind the train was a passenger coach, in which 
the officers were stored. My company occupied the third car from 
the rear. The next car in advance of ours was filled with two com- 
panies. Then there were eight or ten cars immediately behind the 
engine filled with horses and equipage. 

I had taken off my boots and made a pillow of them. We were 
"sardined" upon the floor of that car as compactly as was possible, 
^o man could turn over without the consent of the whole squad, and 
then the order "right spoon" or "left spoon " had first to be given, 
so that all turn at once, when a general flopping over followed, not^ 
however^ without a good deal of "cussing" by those who had to be 
^' waked" in order to successfully execute the command. 

Suddenly the shrill scream of a whistle is heard, then another — only 
two— in close succession. Then a terrific shock — a crash — a crash — 
then a dead halt. The very earth seems to quake and tremble. In 
an instant we are rushing to and fro in wild confusion. Nothing can 
be seen. Presently a side door is pushed open and a man leaps out 
into the darkness— down, down, he falls, sixty feet, into the marsh and 
among the logs that lie beneath us. 

One glance out, and we see fire falling from the engine, and real- 
ize at a glance that we are upon a high bridge. The door is closed im- 
mediately. Now the hissing of steam, the dying groans and prayers 
of wounded and mangled inen, the struggles and hard breathing of 
hundreds of horses are borne to our ears, and we begin to realize that 
a terrible accident has occurred. 

Now the sound of voices is audible^. Those who have escaped un- 
hurt begin to cast about for some means of escape. The alarming 
Fact that we were upon a high trestle Was communicated one to an- 
other. Then the cry was raised that the bridge and wreck were on 
fire, and that the bridge would soon fall. This caused a stampede, 
and several men were hurt in the rush that followed. Every man x)n 
that bridge fully believed that the whole mass would go down to- 
gether before we could possibly escape. 

For the first time since the battle of Winchester I tried with all my 
heart to feel religious. But I found that my desire to reach the 
^' shore" at the east end of the bridge far out-weighed my longing to 
plant my feet firmly upon the shore of that "bourne from which no 
traveler ever does get back." Perhaps it was because 1 realized that 
i was much nearer the earth than the heavenly land. 

But while I was pre|)aring to ncteet the end, which I thought wotild 



10 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 




'A Crash.- Then a Dead Halt- 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 11 

soon come, some of the boys seized their carbines, -ind with the butt 
ends commenced to smash in the end of the car. Soon a hole ap- 
peared, and in a twinkling the end of that car was demolished, and 
we were climbing to the roof. Running to the rear of th^^ train we 
found several hundred men upon the top and inside the officers' cu*. 
Here a dim lamp was procured, and by its light we commenced an 
extremely perilous trip back over the trestle work, not knowing how 
far or when the land would be reached. 

Such a spectacle was never seen before nor since. In fact, it was 
too dark to be seen on that night. There were nearly lour hundred 
of us — a general, colonel, lieutenant cf)lonel, two majors, several cnp- 
tains and lieutenants — all together, astraddle of the two rails '■ craw- 
fishing" it, for none dared to attempt to walk the ties in ttie dark- 
ness. 

To udd to our already embarrassing situation, a sudden gust of 
wimd put an end to our light, and we found that we were in for the 
rest of the journey aided only by instinct. It was an hour of intense 
horror, which no pen can portray, no tongue can tell. 

This all occurred in less lime than I could write two lines of this 
narrative. 

We had proceeded in this way nearly a quarter of a mile, making 
as rapid strides as possible, when the advance sent ba( k the glad 
tidings thnt land had been discovered, and soon we stepped with weak 
one by one, upon terra firnia, with a fervent ''thank G( d" for our 
safe delivery. 

Now our thoughts are wholly turned upon the work before us of 
rescuing our unfortunate comrades. We now stand upon a high fill 
and cast our eyes in the direction of the wreck and try to scan the 
situation. 

Our hearts are melted by the sounds which arise from the debris 
away down in the swamp below us. A bright light flashes up near 
the engines and reveals the surroundings. It is the beacon light to 
guide us to the rescue. Then a voice is heard : "Help ! help ! in God's 
name, help! The bridge is on tire!" 

The burning embers fall down, down until the wreck beneath is 
ignited and a lurid light illuminates the terrible scene. We are now 
able to see our way, and we hasten down the embankment and are 
soon among the debris assisting the living and removing the dead. 
I remembered the man who jumped from the car when the collision 
occurred, and by the aid of a torch light we found him, in a half- 
stooping posisition— dead. He was a Sergeant by the name of Ash- 
burn. 

In an hour after the accident the towns of Carlysle and Collins 
Station, and all the surrounding neighborhood, were depopulated and 
the people massed at the scene of the disaster. Such a throng of peo- 
ple had never before been gathered together in that section of the 
country, especially at midnight. 

By the aid of a thousand willing hands, the flames were soon ex- 
tinguished, the wounded cared for, and the dead gathered up. 

The cry for help which had been heard came from the engineer of 
our train. His legs were securely fastened between the tender and 
boiler, which had been jammed together, and by the light of the 



12 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

slowly burning bridge his pallid face could plainly be seen hanging 
from the cab window, and his now faint voice could be heard plead- 
ing for assistance. It was more than any man could stind, and sev- 
eral of the boys attempted to climb to him at the risk of their own 
lives, for it was thought that the whole structure would fall before 
morning. 

After repeated efiforts one of our men reached, and made every 
effort to release him, but, alas! to no purpose. He died while giving 
a message to be delivered to his young wife and child, and his white 
face dropped and hung lifeless by the window of his engine. 

The flreman's body had been severed, and his lower limbs and part 
of his body hung beneath the bridge by his suspenders — a ghastly 
sight for his wife to look upon when she arrived by special train 
from St. Louis the next morning. 

Underneath the trestle^ on either side, were vast heaps of dead and 
crippled horses, together with the debris of eight cars which had con- 
veyed them to the scene of their death. Fortunately for us the horse 
cars were in advance, and of course saved us from total destruction. 

A forage car containing corn and hay and a half dozen men had 
gone with the wreck. These men were all killed. The two en- 
gines seemed to have almost buried themselves in each other, while 
the rear cars of both trains were still upon the track. 

An enterprising photographer was early upon the spot, and photo- 
graphed the wreck and sold about one thousand pictures at fifty cents 
each, as we aftewards learned. 

Upon the trestle near our engine lay a few dead horses, upin which 
the bottom of a ar securely rested. The sides had fallen irom this 
car, dragijing with them all the horses it contained— save one. There 
he stood like a marble statue. This horse belonged to a S^^rgeant 
Cabel, who called him "Giribadi.'^ Everybody knew this horse, and 
respected him for his noble qualities. Cabel loved him and was loved 
in turn by "Garibaldi." 

The old mustang had carried his master throujfh two yeirs of hard- 
ship, and Wis never known to flicker, and could live as long on wind 
and go as far in a week as any horse in the army of the Potomac. He 
had stood by his master in many tight places — waiting patiently in a 
fence corner for hours for his wayward master to get sober, on more 
than one occasion — and now, could Cabel desert him? Not much! 
He would listen to none of the propositions suggested "to put the 
horse out of his misery;" but hastened to Carlysle and soon returned 
with block and tackle)^ and by the aid of hundreds of volunteers, the 
old pony was lowered to the ground amidst the deafening shouts of 
eight thousand sympathetic souls. This old mustang has a further 
history, which I will relate further on. 

The wounded men were kindly taken care of by the good people of 
Carlysle, as indeed were all who wished to avail themselves of the 
proffered hospitality. Engines were soon brought from Cincinnati 
and St. Louis, and by night the track was cleared. Out of the thirty- 
three horses in my company but one remained — "Garibaldi." 

Of course you ask what became of the rebel captain. I can't tell 
5''0u. For a whole day we searched the woods and every corner in the 
towH, but could gain no clew. One thing was evident, he never got 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 13 

on his train after giving his enofineer his orders. Had we found him, 
his carcass would have danj^led in the air beneath that fatal brido:e. 

Leaving our wounded to the tender care of the good people, and 
after burying our dead in sorrow, we embarked on another train for 
St. Louis. 



CHAPTER II. 



Up the Turbid Missouri'-Ten Days Exposed to a Drenching- Rain— The 
Boat is Snag-g-ed, and the Boys Jump Overboard— Musing- Upon 
the Past— The Boys Stampede a Herd of Cattle and Run Them Into 
a Circus— Great Excitement, in Which the Cash Box is Missing-— 
The Tvc^enty-first New York Move, but the Sixth West Virginia 
Disobey the Order, 



At St. Louis we embarked on an old hulk of a steamer destined for 
the Missouri river, and thence to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas — our 
starting point over the plains to the mountains — a distance of twelve 
hundred miles. 

A voyage up the Missouri River is a fine thing to contemplate, but 
altogether a different thing to experience. 

I had made the trip with a company of emigrants seven years be- 
fore — when but a mere boy — a part of the way on the deck of the old 
*'William Bussell," and I still held some unpleasant recollections of 
muddy water, sand bars and snags, and the sinking of our steamer 
in six inches of water, and of waiting six long days for a boat to come 
to our assistance 

I have waded through many years of untold hardships, but I now 
think that this second trip up the turbid Missouri was the most un- 
comfortable soldiering we had ever experienced. The boat was liter- 
ally packed from stem to stern with troops and horses, there being a 
part of several regiments on board. My company, with several 
others, were quartered on the hurricane deck. The first several days 
the rain came dowm upon us in torrents. For shelter we pitched our 
tents all over the roof. But they afforded but poor protection, as we 
could not "ditch" around them, and the water ran under us and was 
tauen up by our heavy blankets. 

To add to our discomfort a cyclone struck us one cold, wet night, 
and tore the last vestige of our tents from their fastenings and carried 
them into the surging muddy water. From that time until we reached 



14 ON THE PLAINS IN '65 

Kansas City we were drenched and soaked, and many of the boys for 
the first time in many months, had their uniforms washed. 

To add to all this, we had but one stove — an old sheet iron thing: — 
upon which two or three hundred men had to do their cooking:. For 
eight or ten days and nights this was covered with cups and camp 
kettles. It was against the rules to fry meat — that could be eaten raw ; 
but coffee must be cooked. 

It was delicious coffee. It looked rich and good, having the appear- 
ance of. being well "creamed;" but after drinking a few quarts it was 
positively necessary to take a chew of tobacco in order to kill the bad 
taste. 

The day we passed Kansas City the storm *Met up," and the glo- 
rious sun came out warm and beautiful — a most beautiful sight. 
Then such a drying of clothes and blankets ! That boat looked like a 
huge "junk boat," with all the old rags in creation. It was a sight 
to make even a Chinaman blusb. Every available hog chain, as high 
as a pike pole could reach, was turned into a clothes line. All the 
railings, and even the pilot house, were brought into requisition, and 
the boys took turns at holding their blankets around the'smoke stack. 
They made hay while the sun shone. 

It was a day of thanksgiving for the festive grayback. They, too, 
were warmed into new life, and marshaled their innumerable hosts 
on the sunny side of the blankets and old shirts, and basked in the 
warm sunshine, gathering strength for the next onslaught. 

The night following was clear and pleasant. We had all "spooned', 
down together, and were making up for lost time at a splendid rate, 
when a crash and ringing of bells below awoke us rather abruptly. 
In and instant all was uproar and confusion, in which a few men fell 
overboard. 

"The boat is wrecked!" "Boys, she is bound to sink!" "Grab a 
root!" "Sink or swim!" and many other expressions could be heard 
as the mass of excited men rushed to and fro in the darkness. 

Some one ordered the horses to be cut loose and shoved overboard. 
Amidst the confusion I, with many others, had clambered over the 
guard rails and down the sides of the boat to the lower deck, which 
became so densely packed that many were shoved into the water. 

Then over went a horse, then another, until a half a dozen or more 
were in the river. Then the bass voice of a man arose from out of the 
depths of the muddy waters, and could be heard above the din and 
confusion : 

"What in the are you doing there? Don't launch anymore 

horses over here. ' Taint a foot deep /" 

In a little while our old comrade Cahall was hauled on board, with 
a]l the others who had fallen into the water. No one was hurt. Quiet 
was soon restored, and what at first seemed to be a dreadful accident 
became a good joke, especially on those who had been "ducked." 

An inspection of the boat revealed the fact that she lay on a sand- 
bar with a large snag running through her larboard wheel-house, which 
had completely demolished the cooking department. 

Just aft of the wheel-house were several horses. One of these bad 
been caught by a prong of the snag in its ascent, and was found stand- 
ing on his hind feet with his head up in the hole made in the floor of 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 15 

the caMn by the snug. On cutting his halter, he dropperl *'*right side 
up wiih care," and reveaved himself to be old "Garabaldi," He had 
made another narrow escape, and thus increased in value (in the eiti- 
mation of hi'^ master) to ''one thousand dollars." 

Morning dawned, the snag was removed, and in the meantime some 
of the men went ashore in search of their stock, which was soon found 
quietly grazing on the rich Kansas grass. 

The next day we disembarked at Fort Leavenworth, and I, with 
suppressed emotional feelings, realized that I once more stood upon 
the dear soil of my boyhood daj^s — thel soil which contained the 
remams of a dear mother. 

I had formed a wild love for Kansas in early youth, when the Kaw, 
Pottowottomy and other half-wild Indirsus lived along the wooded 
banks of the Kansas river. Four years of boyish life filled with. sports 
and wild excitements had been spent here, which now seemed like a 
dream of long ago. 

Who does not like the scenes of his youth? Where is the man so 
liappy and contented that he would not gladly go back to boyhood 
days and live that life over attain ? 

All through the long journey across tlie "States" 1 had been musing 
upon this early life. Scenes and incidents were recalled. Familiar 
forms and happy faces constantly flitted before me, recalling jiiany 
happy days spent in that land which I was again soon to reach. 

In my imagination 1 again sat upon the banks of the Kaw and cast 
my hook into the stream. Airain I drew it up to put on a fresh ''bait," 
to renew my efforts to catch the fish which I never caught. Again I 
saw the long single file of half-clad Indians as they forded the stream. 
Then I seemed to again see them plucking the blushing blue grapes 
and filling their rude baskets, for which they expected to obtain a 
^lecia aspiu. 

But now, after landing, how changed the scene! True, I was yet a long 
way from my old home, but things and places w^hich I had known so 
well at Leaven worth had all changed — or perhans I had changed. How- 
evt^r it v;as, I felt a melancholy similar to that of Enoch Arden 
when he returned to his old home after an absence of ten years, and 
found his wife the wife of another. 

I wished again that I might go over across the country to the 
banks of the Wakarusha and watch the endless string of wagons 
containing emigrants and provisions for the torts and country be- 
yond the Rocky Mountains. I remembered how in my boyish 
love of the v/ild and romantic, I had envied the wagon master, his 
mule and Mexican saddle, and long heavy whip, and; large gingling 
Fpurs. But all this had passed, and I tried in vain to forget the past 
a^nd make the best of the present. 

But I have unintentionally drifted into this channel, and will now 
take the reader back to the camp at Leavenworth. I am anxious to 
get onto the plains with those who will follow me, but we must not 
leave Fort Leavenworth without telling of the mutiny which oc- 
<^urred here. 

I fain would pass over this unfortunate occurrence, for it is not a 
very pleasant refiection to remember that a regiment that had served 
ihrough nearly five years without a spot or blemish to tarnish a 



16 OK THS PLAINS IK '60. 

hard earned fame should engagre in mutiny. But the circumstances 
which occasioned it were ampleexcuse for those who participated. 

Our first order after getting: settled in camp was to "turn over" 
our American horses and "draw" ponies. The turning over process 
was a light job for us. Our horses had been "turned over" (the 
bridge) at Carlyle. But the "drawing" was a hard job. The corral, 
about thirty acres in extent, contained about one thousand "bronchos." 
Some were good; some were not so good. They had, many of them, 
been captured or confiscated from the hostile Indians on the plains^ 
and as a result were not accustomed to the ways and manners of the 
pale face. They had to be caught with a "lasso." 

Indian ponies were better calculated for the use of cavalry on the 
plains than "Americano" horses. His powers of endurance were 
truly wonderful. 1 never knew a pony to give out. He can travel a 
greater distance andctrry a load in a day, or week, or all the timej 
for that matter, and do it on less rations than any other living ani- 
mal. 

We saw some little scrawny rats out on the plains which had been 
in the mail service for years and seemed to grow fat on iti During 
the spring, summer and fall they receive no grain at all, but subsist 
on grass and wind. 

A few days after our arrival we went over to the corral to pick from 
the herd. Catching them proved to be fine sport, especially to the 
**bullwhackers" and "cowboys" who lounged around and watched 
our awkward efforts at throwing the lariette. 

But a half-breed Indian who had charge of the stock, came to the 
rescue on an old split-eared pony which seemed to take especial de- 
light in chasing and capturing his wild country cousins. He waa 
brought up in the lasso business and knew Just when to rush in and 
the exact moment to sit down and choke the pesky rascal at the oth- 
er end of the rope. 

By night we had secured enough ponies, and we returned to camp* 

After exchanging our old trusty carbines for seven shooter (Spen- 
cer) carbines, and adding a forty foot picket rope and iron pin to ouf 
equipage, we were again ready for business. 

Each regiment had assigned for its use a mule train of twenty- 
seven wagons, six mules to the wagon. These were for the transpor- 
tation of rations, tents and tools, and material for the construction 
of block houses and stockades, together with a supply of forage for' 
toules and ponies. 

During our short encampment here we were joined by the 1st and 
Gth Michigan Cavalry. While lying in camp and making prepara- 
tions for a long march and hard winter, an incident occurred which 1 
must relate to show how naughty the boys acted on certain occasions. 
Then I will give an account oi the mutiny. 

A circus show landed at Leavenworth city, aud after giving an ex- 
hibition there, came up to the fort. It proved to be an unlucky 
place for that show. Our men had not been paid off for some 
months, and of course were all "strapped;" but the pay rolls had 
been signed, and we were to be paid on the day following. 

A delegation of the boys in eamp waited upon the managed and 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 17 

asked him to defer until the next day. But he could not — was billed 
for points above, and naust go on. 

The boys deternoined to have all the fun possible out of the thing, 
and play a part not on the programme. The menagerie part of the 
show was a very lame affair, inasmuch as an old lame elephant and 
a "happy family" composed all that feature of the show. 

Night came on, ancf the band played "Johnny Come Marching 
Home," and "The Girl I Left Behind Me," and a large crowd of 
moneyless men gathered npon the outside of the canvas. Presently 
some one plucked me out to one side and pointed to a large slit in the 
canvas. It was enough; we had been there before. Following my 
venturesome guide, we were soon under the seats, and patiently wait- 
ing for the clown to make his appearance. 

We had not been enlightened as to what was going on just down 
the road a mile distant; hence we felt serene and happy. The show 
commenced. The "grand entry" was just over, when the clown 
made his appearance with the usual jokes. But suddenly he stops 
short and seemed to have lost his place. 

The ground trembles, and there is a sound as of distant thunder. 
Now it comes nearer and nearer. Every face is blanched and every 
heart stands still. The showmen look each other in the face, but not 
a word escapes the lips of anyone. The old elephant lashes the 
ground with his trunk, and tries to break his chains. The "happy 
family" all at once stir up a regular family row, and in an 
intant monkey, cats, dogs, snakes, &c., are engaged in a dreadful 
deadly fight. Now the entire audience loses their balance and com- 
mence to jostle each other about. 

All at once the seats come down with a crash. It was a moment 
of intense horror. But only for a moment. Now the ground seems 
to shake with greater violence; the crowd outside are runing to and 
fro; the strange and awful sound increases. And all at once the 
truth dawned upon us, and the shout goes up, "stampede! stampede!" 
This intensified the horror. 

I had seen stampedes before, and for an instant I felt my head reel 
and my senses leave me — only for an instant, and then I saw stars. 
The canvas was gone, and we lay in heaps upon the ground. Such a 
scene cannot be described, or even imagined. The whole occurrence 
took place in one minute. 

The tent was dragged for some distance, taking in its folds horses, 
men in striped suits, wagons, seats, and carrying them for some dis- 
tance. Then it was dropped, and the frightened herd of cattle, 
horses, mules, ponies, <fec., with the old elephant bringing up the rear, 
dragging his heavy chain attached to one fore foot— all went pell 
mell down the plain toward the city. This chain with a large post at 
its end, was a dreadful weapon in the hand of an elephant, and many 
were the Mexican steers and Indian ponies which came within its 
deadly sweep. 

I regret to say that the ticket office was upset and robbed of several 
hundred dollars, although this was likely done by those who had 
nothing to do with the stampede. 

Several days were consumed in gathering up the stock belonging 
to the show, in which search we all joined. With the exception of 



18 ON THE PLAINS IN '65 

some broken limbs and many bruises, no more bodily harm occurred, 
aithoug^h it was regarded as miraculous that we were not all killed. 

The cattle which stampeded belonged to a freight train in camp 
near the fort, and destined for Fort Union, New Mexico. They 
were started by the use of buffalo robes thrown over two or three 
mounted men, who rushed into the herd. 

In justice to the officers in command it is weli to state that they 
made an effort to bring the guilty parties to punishment, but they 
could not be f©und, and the enraged showmen left Fort Leavenworth 
swearing eternal vengeance on all the troops at that place. The show- 
men made capital out of the thing though, for they went from place 
to place telling that they had lost three elephants, four lions, and all 
their camels and dromedaries in that stampede. 

The next day after the show several regiments, including the Sixth 
West Virginia cavalry were paid off. This proved to be a blunder, as 
the sequel will show. 

It will be remembered that the 6th West Virginia, 3d Massachusetts, 
14th Pennsylvania, 21st New York aad the 1st and 6th Michigan— all 
cavalry regiments — were in camp at this time at Fort Leavenworth, 
with marching orders for the plains and Rocky mountains, in the 
territories of Nebraska, Colorado, Dakota, Wyoming, Utah and Mon- 
tana. 

It was intended that all these regiments should march through as far 
as Fort Kearney, Nebraska, together. It was evident that General 
Wheaton was contemplating trouble, .and that the whole command 
would refuse to move. In fact it soon became a fixed fact, and was 
publicly talked of by the troops and understood by the officers that the 
order would not be obeyed. Then it leaked out that secret meetings 
were being held nightly by some of the regiments. I had attended 
none of these meetings up to this time, but one evening a Sergeant 
came through camp giving notice that every man would be expected 
to meet in the woods, a few hundred yards distant, that night at ten 
o'clock. 

Some time after dark the camp became thinned out, until but few of 
us remained. As for myself I had determined to take no stock in the 
proceedings or its results, but had made up my mind to follow Col. R. 
E. Fleming, my commanding officer, wherever he ordered to go. 

However, with a view to finding out just what grounds the boys had 
for engaging in a mutiny, I sauntered out to the place of rendezvous. 
Here I found a large delegation from all the commands. The little 
Sergeant, whose name I do not remember, called the meeting to order. 
He was the same who had given notice of the meeting. He proceeded 
to set forth in flaunting tones the many reasons why we should not be 
sent out over the plains. 

First, many of the men had enlisted at the breaking out of the war ; 
had served three months, then three years, then re-enlisted again for 
three years, or "during the war." Peace had been declared, the war 
was over, and we should be mustered out. 

Then again, he argued that we had not enlisted to fight Indians, and 
that our service was to be in the United States and not in the terri- 
tories. He then closed by asserting that we were ordered West by 
misrepresentation of our officers to the War Department; that the 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 19 

department had been led to believe that we were anxious to go West, 
and did not want to be discharged. 

His speech had the desired eflfect, and before the meeting closed a 
mutual understanding was effected, and a positive agreement made 
that not a man should move. 

In justice to a large number of the young men of my regiment, my- 
self included, I will say that we declined to take any part in the meet- 
insr, but determined to obey orders right or wrong. 

Of course our commander knew of these resolutions and the agree-, 
ment, and as a result we were put under the strictest discipline. Camp 
guards were put on, and no one allowed to go outside the lines without 
a pass. 

No whiskey was allowed in camp. At least such were the orders ; 
but I saw tricks resorted to by the 21st New York Cavalry which I 
never saw before, although we were well versed in smuggling whisky. 
Rabbits were plentiful down the river, and passes were given the men 
occasionally to go rabbit hunting. When they returned their pockets 
were always searched by the camp guard for the ardent, and of course 
never found. Into camp they would march, with guns at a "right 
shoulder shift," muzzle pointing up. Then into the little tents, and 
the gun was passed around, each«one taking a pull at the muzzle, and 
many of them got more than "half shot" and sometinaes badly wounded, 
who never heard the crack of a gun in the hands of a rebel. 

Another device was to go to the river to wash blankets. After wash- 
ing, go to a neighboring saloon, buy a gallon, put it in a bucket, put 
the blanket in the bucket also, and souse it up and down until all the 
precious fluid is absorbed, then rush off for the camp, and once in camp 
wring it out into a camp kettle, and all get drunk. It is strange how 
often some of the blankets had to be washed, and how hard these New 
York bummers would work at the wringing process. I have seen a 
blanket literally twisted to pieces in the effort to squeeze "one more 
drop" out of the woolly thing. It was some time before the officers 
could find out how these nien got liquor into camp. 

One day a very respectable looking Irish girl came into camp with a 
basket of cakes and dyspeptic looking pies to sell to the boys. She was 
searched by the guard and allowed to pass in. 

After selling out her little "blind," as she afterwards termed it, she 
sat down in a large Sibley tent. As she dropped onto the stool a jing- 
ling kind of sound was heard, and the boys in the tent at once took the 
hint. She sat for some time watching a game of cards, and occasionally 
offered some valuable hints as how certain cards should be played. 

Finally one of the boys ventured to suggest that if he could only 
get a littJe something to clear up his mind he might be able to play 
his cards better. 

"I've got a wee drop of the critter by me now, boys ; which ov ye 
want to pay me fur me trouble? ye can have fur the asken." 

"I'll take that trick right now," said one of the boys, as he went 
down in his pocket after the script. "Where have you the liquor, me 
love?" 

"It's underneath me dress, bedad ; tied to me hoop skirt," and as 
she spoke she very modestly lifted her dress io an immodest height 



20 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

and revealed several bottles and canteens dangling from her hoop 
skirt, Wke gourds from a vinenn autumn. 

The game of poker lost its interest, and a dozen or more thirsty 
topers gathered around that traveling grog-shop, and in ten minutes 
she had relieved her clothes of their ponderous weight and was on 
her way to the city with twenty -five or more dollars fin her pocket. 
Of course there was a dangerous drunk in camp that night, and the 
oflficers wondered "where under the sun those men got their whisky." 
• But the crisis came. The 21st New York was ordered to march 
on the morning of the day following. It was seen by this movement 
that a new programme had been arranged, and that no two regiments 
would be ordered out together. To the surprise of every one this re-g- 
iment moved exactly at the time designated, without one exception. 
This was a damper on the other portion of the command. They had 
been so loud in their declarations of constancy, and had made such 
solemn pledges, that this action was looked upon as a contemptible 
breach of faith. 

Next morning came orders for the 6tli West Virginia to move at 
daybreak on the succeeding morning. Of course the action of this 
regiment was watched with great interest by remaining regiments, 
and by ofiBcers especially. * 

At 4 o'clock in the morning the bugle sounded. A few men crept 
out from their little dog tents and commenced preparing to march. 
But a large proportion, for the first time during four years service, 
failed to respond. Several Orderly Sergeants remained in their tents, 
and made no attempt to muster their men or call the roll. But here 
and there a few familiar voices could be heard ordering the men to 
"fall in.'^ 

In short, the order to move was not generally obeyed, although a 
small proportion of the regiment packed their ponies and were soon 
awaiting further orders. 



CHAPTER nr. 



That- Mutiny— The boys Refuse to March. The Result— Brazie is Ar- 
rested Throug-h Mis-take and Cast Into "Durance Vile."— Smoking' 
the Pipe of Peace— Sleeping- "With Snakes— In the Kickapoo Reser- 
vation— An Adventure With Ute Indians— Love at First Sight- 
Deceptive— "Wild Rose"-^We Dine With the "Noble Red Man." 



By nine o'clock about one-third of the ponies were packed, the long 
line of wagons were drawn out, but fully two-thirds of the ponies re- 
mained hitched to the picket line. The mutineers gathered in 



^A 



ON THJi; PLAINS IN '65. 21 

groups, and were loud in their denunciations of their comrades who 
had nciade preparations to go. 

By some means a rumor j^rot afloat that in case of an 'attempt to ur- 
rest, the men would fight. This spread rapidly, and caused a wild 
excitement throughout the camps and city. But this was a mistake. 
No such thought had entered the mind of any man in that camp; 
but on the contrary, there was a general understanding that all would 
quietly surrender. 

However, a report was current during the day that two negro reg- 
iments on duty at the Fort would atter night surround the camp and 
arrest the whole outfit. This report caused a wild commotion among 
the mutineers, and indeed many who had up to that time taken no 
part in the mutiny, for this cause determined to join them and repel 
such an Insult, as they regarded it. All day long we lay in camp 
awaiting impatiently the action of the commanding oflBcer. 

From morning till late in the afternoon our mule train remained 
in line awaiting orders, while the wagon masters and teamsters cuss- 
ed and swore and gave vent to their wrath by lashing thepoor mules, 
who became restless by long waiting. 

Late in the afternoon the train was moved out onto Salt Creek, 
three miles out on the overland stage route, where they went into 
camp for the night. 

As the shadows of night came upon us another order came to move. 
Col. Fleming gathered the men together and made a short speech, 
as did several other officers. Appeals were made to their sense of 
honor and the shining record of the regiment, which had been pur- 
chased by the sacrifice of t'-^e lives and blood of hundreds of its mem- 
bers on the field of battle during the dark war which had just closed, 
and the folly of such a course as the boys were pursuing was pointed 
out. 

As the Colonel spoke tears ran down his dark checks, and many 
hearts were melted. He closed by giving the mutineers another op- 
portunity to obey the order, and as he moved out of camp a short 
time afterward he was followed by about one-half of his regiment. 

He had given assurances that no colored troops were to be used 
against his boys, and this had a good deal of effect in persuading 
many. That night about one hundred and fifty of us camped on 
Salt Creek, whither our train preceded us. 

The mutineers gathered up all their equipage and threw it in a 
heap together. A few officers remained in the old camp to look af- 
ter the property, for which they were responsible. Among these was 
our genial and worthy lieutenant, H. W. Brazie. 

The boys who are yet living, and who read this, will of course re- 
member him. How could he ever be forgotten, especially by those 
whose hardships and burdens were lightened by his ever jovial 
nature, and his oft repeated acts of kindness toward his comrades and 
those under his care. Shall we ever forget how kind and considerate 
he was, both of the farmers' interests and his boys. When on going 
into camp we always received the injunction and caution from 
him not to take anything for wood but the "top rail" of the 
fence, and then how he always allowed us to go on the hunt of "barn 



22 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

yard pheasants," so that they were picked before they got into 
camp. 

He was also fond of **venison," no matter if it did have the taste of 
mutton. He was always ready to listen to any plausible explanation 
of anything which had the appearance of being a little "crooked" — 
especially if the forager was willing to divide the spoils. 

In him the wit and humor of the whole regiment centered. He 
was as common in his dress and address as any private, and yet 
could appear to better advantage on a general parade than any Gen- 
eral in the army — when he so desired. He was a West Pointer, and 
knew how to drill — in fact, knew all there was in it. He rarely ever 
wore shoulder straps, or any insignia of his rank. 

He was up to all kind of tricks, and never let an opportunity pass 
to play a joke on any one, not even a General. 

At one time, while attending a theatre in Washington, at which 
Pauline Cushman was the star, Brazie was sitting beside a dashing 
yonng Colonel who had under his ofiBcial care a very beautiful lady, 
whose habits and character were pretty generally known, and were 
very questionable. 

When Pauline made her first appearance upon the stage, of course 
she received the applause of the vast audience, and was applauded 
by none more than our fat Lieutenant. Flowers were rained upon 
the stage like the falling of leaves in autumn. 

Amidst the uproar and confusion, the Lieutenant seized the Colo- 
nel's plumed hat, and rising to his feet, sailed it over the heads of the 
audience and it fell upon the stage at the feet of the beautiful actress. 
Next he plucked a rosette from the dove-like head of the Colonel's 
blushing partner and it went to keep company with the plumed hat. 
Never did that grand opera house ring with such a shont of applause 
as followed. 

The hat was soon returned by one of the "supes," with the compli- 
ments of the fair actress, and our jovial Lieutenant was "put under 
arrest," much to the regret of his many friends. 

But he got even with the Colonel in a very short time. While 
passing down Fourteenth street in company with another, one night, 
he saw the Colonel enter a house of some notoriety among the boys. 
Waiting a few moments, they followed. 

On entering they soon found the Colonel's room, where they dis- 
covered him locked in the loving embrace of his lady friend. Here 
a withdrawal of the charges against the Lieutenant was demanded, 
and of course it was done — for was not the Colonel a married man? 
The two blackmailers left the house, feeling that they had "got in 
their work." The next day the Lieutenant was restored to duty. 

At the camp everything was in commotion. Guards from some of 
the other regiments had been placed around the camp, where they 
remained until after dark. 

About nine o'clock dark lines of troops could be seen moving in 
the direction of the mutineers' camp. Soon they formed a hollow 
square, and surrounded the camp. The boys lounged around and 
seemed net to notice the presence of their guards. 

After the camp had been well surrounded detachments were sent 
into it, who gathered up the mutineers and marched them over to 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 23 

the "Stone Ju^," as the boys called the guardhouse. By some 
means our Lieutenant got mixed up in the crowd of prisoners, and 
notwithstanding his protests that he was an officer, he was crowded 
into the lockup, much to the merriment of the boys, who had often 
been the victims of his pranks and jokes. 

But he enjoyed the joke as much as any one. Redetermined to 
get even with somebody. Next morning all the prisoners were 
brought before the proper military court, where they were drawn up 
in line and their names and rank recorded. Here the good Lieuten- 
ant was soon discovered and recognized, and of course soon released 
with many apologies. 

This was good as far as it went, but it did not go far enough. A 
preliminary hearing was had in the Judge Advocate's office. This 
gentleman was a high toned red-taper of the regular army. He was 
likewise a "judge" of good whisky and "fine cut and dry" tobacco, 
of which he kept a good supply. But after the trial was over, and the 
boys had been marched off to the "jug," and the officers and specta- 
tors had departed, he suddenly discovered that he was short a fine 
meerschaum pipe and about five pounds of tobacco. The guard- 
house was searched, every pocket turned inside out, and the articles 
not found. 

That night about one hundred and fifty men, and a band of Iowa 
Indians, formed a group around camp fires on Salt Creek, where the 
tomahawk was buried, and there we smoked the pipe of peace until 
the blushing morning sun illuminated the eastern horizon. It was a 
jovial time, and one long to be remembered. 

This was our first introduction to the red skin, and it was a novel 
one. That huge pipe, followed by "tomahawk pipes," "cob pipes," 
and a hundred other kind of pipe, passed from mouth to mouth with 
a friendly " how, how," until the last crumb of that *' regular army 
tobacco " had ascended in a cloud of smoke as sweet incense to the 
" Great Spirit." 

Now mind, I don't say positively that the lieutenant "removed" 
that pipe and tobacco from its headquarters, but we always thought 
he did. 

During the day after the arrest of the mutineers, they were given 
another chance to join the regiment. About fifty men concluded to 
do so. The remainder determined to stand a court martial. This, 
however, never occurred, except in the case of the ring-leaders, who 
were tried and sentenced to some military prison for a short term of 
years, but soon pardoned. 

Adjutant General Pierpoint, nephew of the Governor of West Vir- 
ginia, was sent for, and in a few days arrived. He met the boys, 
and through his personal friendship and kind persuasion and advice, 
the remainder soon consented to cross the plains, and accordingly 
soon left Leavenworth under Lieutenant-Colonel Fleming. But they 
only went as far west as Fort Sedwick, in Colorado. This ended the 
mutiny. 

We go back to the regiment on Salt Creek. The second morning 
of our encampment dawns, and we are in line of march. Our long 
train is drawn out, and we present a very imposing spectacle, Wg 



24 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

have slept well, after our previous night of dissipation, and we all 
feel that this is the dawn of a new life. 

The day is beautiful, and the prairie stretching out before us, cov- 
ered with its rich carpet of green grass, is a sight which calls forth 
exclamations of wonder and adriDirwtion frona the boys who were 
reared in the mountains of West Virginia, or the iron hills of South- 
ern Ohio. 

The fiistand second days out are spent in shooting prairie chick- 
ens. We pass across a pretty country, and the second night camp at 
Kinnakuck creek, near a little village of the same name. We are 
now in the heart of the Pntawottamie and Kickapoo Indian reserves. 
We have spent a good portion of the time in visiting camps along 
tJbe way, and making ourselves familiar with their habits. 

The dissatisfaction, or "little unpleasantness," at Fort Leaven- 
worth, is forgotten. In the new and strange scenes of our march we 
almost forgot the three or four years of hard fighting and marching 
just passed, and every day brings with it its pleasures and delights. 

Our camp here proves to be unfortunate. We *' stake " our ponies 
oat to graze. A large area of land is required for a small herd of 
ponies. Our lariettes are forty feet in length, and hence eighty feet 
is required between ponies to prevent contnct. 

During the early evening sonje Indians caaie into camp, and the 
boys try their hand at shooting with a genuine bow and arrow. 
All the old coins in the regiment are raked up and placed in the end 
of a stick, which is stuck in the ground for a target, and one by one 
they are knocked out and dropped into the wallet of the pesky red 
rapcal, who rarely ever misses his mark. 

I had learned a little of the Potawattamie language when living 
in Kansas a few years before, and here I surprised the boys by en- 
gaging a little equaw in conversation in her own tongue. It didn't 
last long, for I soon run short of tongue, of her kind. 

As the curtain of night fell upon us a cloud appeared on the horizon, 
and soon the rain came down in torrents. It was such a rain as we 
had never seen in the East, and our little tents afforded but meagre 
shelter. All night long it poured down upon us, and when the day 
dawned there was not a dry stitch in the camp. We pitched our 
tents in all the higher places, in order to keep as dry as possible. 

As day broke we were startled by a comrade by the name of Bur- 
ton, who tumbled out of his tent entangled in his gun slings, revolv- 
ers, old boots and blankets, shouting : 

"Holy Moses! Wnakes! snakes! Whoop! whoop! Turn out, 
boys. Come out of your holes! Snakes!" 

The next instant his partner, awakened by the cry, rises on his 
elbow and yawns, then seeing the cause of Burton's alarm springs to 
his feet, and tearing the tent from its pins dashes through the camp, 
completely enveloped in canvas. Both these men had been drinking 
a good deal, and the first thought of all was that they were seized 
with "fits." 

Now all over the camp the boys are seen rolling out from under 
the sides of tents; others spring out with boots in hand, while others 
roll up in their blankets and lie still. In a moment after the first 
alarm the whole camp is in a fevei of excitement and commotion. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 25 

Sabres, carbines, boots, tent poles, and everything that could be used 
as a weapon, was seized, and a general slaughter of snakes followed. 

It was soon discovered that hundreds of small prairie rattlesnakes 
had taken refuge with us in our tents from the storm. Some were 
under blankets, others coiled up on top, and some had found ; in- 
creased com fort] in old cavalry boots. 

Irememberan Irishman, whom we will call Flinn, for short. Flinn 
had set for some time on a cracker box, near a smoking pile of wet 
wood, over which the boys were trying to boil coffee. He had 
donned his garments one by one. He had pulled on his half-dried 
stockings. Then picking up a boot he turned it upside down,' then 
pulled it on. 

He sat for a moment *' chinning " the boys and keeping up a gen- 
eral laugh with his wit and humor. 

"There's no snakes on the Green Isle. Divil the one did I see in 
thirty years in Ireland. I guess, be the mother of St. Patrick, all 
the bloody varmints came to Kansas when St. Patrick banished 
them from the ould country." 

He then picked up the other boot, but immediately laid it down 
again. A peculiar expression spread over his face. He sat for an 
instant with his eyes cast upon the boot which contained his foot. 
Then his countenance assumed a deathlike pallor. He raised his 
foot slowly to one of the boys near him. 

*' Will ye plase be after pullin' that boot off immadiately, if not 
sooner?" 

The boot was soon straddled and pulled. It slipped a little, mak- 
ing a little more room in the toe. Flinn was now sure of a percept- 
ible movement of something in the toe of that boot. 

"\egods!" yelled Flinn. "Yank the boot from off me foot im- 
madiately— immadiately, if not at once. Och ! mother of Moses I" 
And the poor frightened Irishman hopped on one foot, while all the 
boys laughed and yelled, until he fell over a wagon tongue, where he 
was seized and the boot pulled off, turned up, and a small rattle- 
snake, six inches in length, dropped out. 

"Och I bloody thunder I It's a narrow escape from death, sure,' 
said Flinn, as he hobbled around on one foot. "Kill the varmint 
immediately." 

Ever after our experience with the snakes, related in the last chap- 
ter, we were very cautious. On awakening in the morning we al- 
ways made a thorough examination of the interior of our tents, 
handling every blanket tenderly and cautiously, lest some intruder 
might be suddenly aroused. 

We remained at this camp during the day, and the following night 
in order to give our clothing a good drying. It was an unfortunate 
camp, as the sequel will show. 

We are now in the Kickapoo Indian reservation. All along the 
stream upon which we are camped are half-civilized Indians. Some 
have little patches of land under a poor state of cultivation ; some do 
not farm at all, although they own splendid claims ; while all subsist 
upon "swapping" ponies, selling moccasins which the squaws have 
made, or from hunting, fishing or stealing. 

These Indians have all since been swindled out of their valuable 



26 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

lands by railroad companies and Government agents, and the land 
has passed into the hands of thrifty farmers. 

At the time of which I write, the Wyandotte, Kaw, Sac and Fox, 
Pottowottamie and^Kickapoo Indians owned nearly all the wooded 
lands along the Kaw river and some of itsj large tributary streams. 
But they are all gone— some to the Indian Territory, others to the 
mountains beyond the plains. 

During the forenoon, three discontented and roving spirits, mount- 
ed upon three old, knotty, shaved mane broncoes, slipped out of camp 
and following the woods along the stream, meandered their way 
down toward the Kaw river in quest of game, fun, or anything else 
which might turn up. 

We had proceeded but a short distance when a man came in sight 
over one of the bluffs a mile away. It was evident that he had been 
stirred up by something, for he came like the wind— down into the 
canyon, then up the slope — then he sees "we three," and turning his 
pony's head towards us, he dashes down the hill on a dead charge. 
Just on top of the hill over which he had passed we now suddenly 
discerned the figures of several mounted men, and from their appear- 
ance we at once conclude they are "Ingins." 

At this moment a dark form sweeps down upon us like an ava- 
lanche, and the old pony stops short, almost upsetting his frightened 
rider. We recognize "Cal," a young darkey^— an attache of our 
camp. 

"Hello I What's up ?" we all sing out. 

"Fo' God, boys, de woods am full ob Ingins— done chase dis coon 
fo' miles. Come mighty near cotchin' dis nigga, sure!" And Cal 
stopped to catch his breath. 

We knew well that there could be no hostile Indians in this local- 
ity ; but knowing the Indians' animosity and hatred of the negro, we 
enjoyed the joke, and determined at once to have some fun out of it. 

''Where are the reds, Cal?" asked Billingley. 

" Bout fo' miles down de creek. Yer see, I was done goin' 'long de 
woods huntin' fo' de buffalo what de boys says was roamin' wild by 
de thousand for anybody to kiM, when all to onct 'bout 'leben hun- 
dred Ingins charged on me out ob de brush. 'Fo I could git de pesky 
boss started for to run, de red debils all close up an' cotch de bridle 
rane, a' den I done gib myself up. Yer see, I tried to 'ploy out on de 
skummish line, but da hoi' me fas'.'* 

"What did they do with you then?" we asked, becoming much in- 
erested in Cal's adventure. 

''Well, dey all whoop an' whoop, an' den da set up a big yell, an 
den dey ax me for to git off. Ob course I gits off, an' den dey takes 
me to de big fire whar da done roas' de captives. Den I done think' 
dejigs up. Den da all pull my har, an' say, "sow-pumpkin," "sow- 
pumpkin"' or sumfin' like dat. I done keep lookin' 'round hopin' dat 
de Kurnel would send de gard arter me, but I seed nuflan' but a mil- 
lion Ingins wid der tomas-hawks an' skelpin'-knives as long as yer 
arm, all waitin' fur de captin ob de squad to gib de command fur^to 
butcher me. Jes as I was spectin' to be chawed up'alive, de big In- 
gin wid de paint on his face says, "Nigger go, leave gun, take pony — 
go!' I wasn't carin' fo' de ole gun, case it didn't b'long to me nohow, 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 27 

case it was de lutenant's, so I wasn't mo' nor a second naarchin' out 
ob dat camp." 

*'But why did yon run so?" we asked. 

"Why, yer see, de whole million ob 'em tuck arter me. So yer see, 
I was cuttin' fur camp — I was boss — I was jes makin' one less ob dat 
tea party, boss, I was!" And Cal shrugged his shoulders and chuckled 
a dry laugh at what he thought to be a narrow escape from a dread- 
ful fate at the hands of hostile savages. 

We had been moving slowly along as Cal narrated his adventure, 
and now we concluded to visit this camp, and if possible take the 
darkey with us. 

*'Yer on de wrong line ob march fur dis coon boys. I^haint go no 
orders fur dat way. Ise gwine to camp, I is." 

"No, no, Cal. Come with us. You shan't be hurt. Those Indians 
live here, and are civilzed. They were only making a fool out of 
you. We're going down to that camp." And by a good deal of per- 
suasion we coaxed him on until we jBnally came suddenly upon a few 
"bucks" who had been fishing and were returning to camp. 

"How !" 

"How!" we reply, as they advance with outstretched hands for a 
shake. 

^'Sow pocherP^ says one as he looks up and sees our black companion. 
^^ Sow pocher ! heap no good — no scalp — face heap dirt — no good — heap 
no good — Ingin heap no like niggar." 

We ride on a few yards, Cal keeping well covered by our ponies, 
and evidently expecting to be shot down at any moment. 

" Tu'Cinuwasha-chu-muc-tohacT^ ssiid one. I at once understood the 
noble red man is asking for smoking tobacco, and we all haul out our 
pouches at once, and when we get them back a few moments later 
they are much lisfhter. 

No Indian will smoke his pipe alone, hence we all got a pull at the 
filthy end of some old tomahawk pipes whose blade, no doubt, had 
split the head of many a white victim. One thing was noticeable, the 
pipe was never passed to our colored friend, and this fact gave Cal 
more uneasiness. 

JBut we now come upon the camp. There are perhaps a dozen tepees 
scattered irregularly in the edge of the woods in the bend of the creek. 
We advance to the large tent upon which are various ornaments and 
decorations, and we all sing out in a chorus, "How!" 

in an instant several wolfish looking dogs set up a yell, and the 
whole camp is at once in commotion. 

"How! how!" comes from within the big tent, and an old chief 
creeps out and extends his paw for a shake. 

"/S'o^f; j9oc/i6r .^ much heap run like antelope," says one old squaw, 
and then they all grunt and grin. 

We now learn that this is a band of Utes, who have 
come all the way from their homes near Pike's Peak. They are 
ladened with robes, moccasins, leggins, and many things to "swap." 
Hitched all around the camp are a number of good ponies, and 
grazing out on the prairie a short distance are others with feet 
" withed " together, or one fore-foot hobbled to the neck, all feeding 
in grass knee deep. 

It is now near noon, and over a fire is suspended a camp kettle. 



28 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

The smell of fresh meat cookins: is borne to our nostrils, and our 
hunger is increased thereby. By signs and broken English we are 
invited to dismount. 

*' Washington sojer heap good. Ingin much like sojer. Eat meat 
with Ingin," said one. 

We knew he was lying about his love for the " sojer," but we con- 
cluded at once to accept the invitation to dine. So we got down, 
strung out our lassos and staked the ponies out to graze, and then we 
entered the " big lodge." 

Lying upon robes spread over the ground are well worn and 
greasy cards which have just been in a game of poker, which game 
was broken up by our arrival. We throw ourselves down, and at 
once commence to trade for moccasins and other articles. As the 
trade is going on, the entrance to the tent opens, and a neat little fig- 
ure appears. 

" White man call her Rose," said the Indian, as he noticed oar 
surprise. We immediately lost our interest in the trading, and all 
eyes are turned upon the *'Wild Rose" which has so suddenly 
bloomed out before us. I am much the younger of the three, and 
very susceptible. In an instant I felt a sort of something I could not 
then understand, but which I have since learned was •' love at first 
sight." 

She was neatly clad in a garb of half-civilized, half-wild combina- 
tion of buckskin, beads and calico. Her feet were encased in small 
moccasins, nicely beaded, and her well rounded limbs, which were 
modestly exposed, give her an appearance altogether fascinating to 
one so young and tender as the writer. 

She was much whiter than the others, and there evidently flowed 
in her veins a small portion of the blood of the pale face. She is 
perhaps seventeen, although she does not appear so old. 

For one moment she stood like the picture of a beautiful dream 
before us, looking first at one and then at the other. I felt my heart 
bound as she cast her eyes upon me, and gazing for an instant, then 
with a smile came to me and cast herself down on the robe by my 
side. 

I thought I could see in the eyes of my comrades a tinge of jeal- 
ousy, and I noticed at once that her action met with the approbatign 
of the old chief, who gave a little nod and a big grunt, and then a 
sharp hiss between his teeth. 

She at once made herself familiar by taking my hand and admir- 
ing a ring upon one of my fingers. Then she examined my belt, 
saber, carbine, revolver, and wanted to get her hands into my pockets 
to see what they contained. I thought she was making love all the 
time, and of course I allowed her privileges which would not have 
been accorded to an ordinary being. 

**How old is little squaw?" I ventured to ask, and as I looked up I 
saw Burton and Billingley wink at each other, and I felt a blush 
spread over my face. 

She held up ten fingers, then five, then one — sixteen. 

"How many winters you live?" she asked, in broken English. 

I replied by holding up ten fingers, then seven— seventeen. 

"Good; white man live one winter more than squaw." 

At this point an old hussy of a squaw, with a patch of fire-clay on 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 29 

her head came in and handed her a pair of beaded moccasins. A lit- 
tle parley seemed to take place between them, snd I thought I could 
detect the cause at once — the old woman wanted to make business 
out of the young girPs opportunity to make love, and I thought it 
an intrusion which the little Rose resented. 

I sympathized with her, and when she proposed to *'swap" I at 
once asked, "How much swap?" 

*' Pie dollar," and up went five fingers. 

In an instant I whipped out a five dollar bill and paid the price 
without a protest, although the moccasins were three sizes too large 
and not worth half the money. I wanted to please her. I thought 
I heard one of the boys say something about somebody being 
"green," but I allowed it to pass, thinking he was jealous. 

Every glance of her eye, every movement of her head, every sign, 
or action, were fascinating to me, and were new links in the chain 
with which she was binding me. 

How foolish, how " green " I was Twelve hours after that I could 
have seen her scalped without a thought of sympathy. 

I wore long raven black hair, and this she seemed to admire very 
much. 

"Heap like Ingin," she said, as her little fingers stroked out the 
kinks which hadn't seen a comb for over two months. This comb- 
ing process I liked very much, and had just begun to enjoy it when 
an old squaw came to the lappell of the tepee and announced that 
the meat was ready. We didn't understand just what she said, but 
her words were interpreted by the buck of English education. 

" Washington sojer eat Ingin meat," and he opened his mouth and 
crammed all his fingers down his throat. We all rose up, and the 
chief led the way. My new-found love caught ray revolver belt and 
led me to a spot near the kettle. We formed a circle, a dozen of us — 
white, black and red — around the pot, which had been placed in a 
grassy spot, all sitting on our feet like tailors. 

A large piece of meat is now lifted out and placed in a nasty look- 
ing naess pan. The old buck draws a nasty looking knife from his 
scabbard, which no doubt has lifted many a scalp from the heads of 
his victims, and with it he carves the meat into half-pound chunks. 
These are passed around with fingers. We all carry scalping knives, 
and we now use them to eat with. 

We pitch in without any further ceremony, and the "filling up," 
as the boys called it, was under headway. 

Of course we didn't ask what kind of meat it was — no matter, it 
was good, and that was enough to know. Bread was passed around 
"on stick." It was baked in this way: By wrapping a long string 
of dough around a greased stick and holding it over the coals until 
baked. It lacked salt, as did the meat, but salt was passed around 
and we were allowed to season it to the taste. 

Our colored boy had gradually simmered down, and was now help- 
ing himself with the others. 

We had coffee which had not been browned, and a green poisonous 
scum was floating upon the surface of the one cup out of which we 
all drank. 

Before commencing to eat Buntoti had passed around a canteen of 
"fire-water," and all partook, especially the old buck, who seemed 



80 



ON THE PLAINS IN ^65. 



to have a copper bottom attached to his stomach. From the quan- 
tity he drank I knew he would soon be beastly drunk, and it gave 
me some uneasiness, for I did not like the old gentleman's eye even 
when sober. 

Dinner over, the boys try to strike a trade — trade a Government 
pony for one of their own— but the Indian was not to be fooled; 
wetting his hand he would slick down the hair on the left shoulder 
of the pony and plainly reveal the " U. S." Then he would exclaim, 
" Ugh ! Washington pony !" 

The old man soon became drunk, and whooped and yelled, but 
was soon laid away on the shelf in a helpless and harmless condition. 


















msm^: 



'm'^><. 



"We Formed a Circle, a Dozen of us, White, Black and Red, Around 

the Pot. 

I devoted every spare moment to making love to the little girl, 
while the others were attending to trading. To my misled mmd 
my love was returned. Once I attempted to kiss her when the 
boys were not looking, but from the awkward manner in which she 
returned it, or tried to bite my nose off, I concluded she had never 
been kissed, and didn't know what it meant. She had already 
slipped the gold ring from my finger and was wearing it upon her 
own. 

But all things have an end in this world. One of the boys called 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 31 

me, and I went down through the brush, closely followed by my 
Wild Rose. All at once I came upon a great bloody spot, and over 
a limb I discovered a raw skin. I am tempted by curiosity to ex- 
amine it. On raising up one side and seeing the hair, a startling 
revelation dawns uyon me. I call the boys up. 

"See there, boys." 

*' Well what? Some kind of skin, I guess," answered one. 

"Yes; dog skin, and of course a dog dinner!" 

**Dog dinner!" echoed all in a chorus. 

*' Je-ru-ci-lam !" exclaimed Billingly, and a twitching was visible 
around his mouth. 

" Thun-der-ation on the blasted Indians!" said Bunton, as he gave 
the hide a turn with his scabbard. 

" Fo' God, boss; dat meat tase like possum. 'Tain't gwine to hurt 
nobody very much, I guess, though." 

But the purp wouldn't sfay down, and in a moment we were all 
casting the dog upon the ground, while the red rascals gathered 
around us and seemed to take delight in the rebellion which bad 
taken place in our stomachs. 

We soon mount our ponies and start for camp. As we rode off the 
buck of English tongue said: '*Come back next week; get more 
dog." 

I cast a look upon my Red Rose, and in vain tried to call back 
seme of the fire which I all at once find has almost gone out. But it 
could not be fanned into new life. I felt sick — sick of everything — 
especially Indians, dog dinners, green coffee, and dirty, deceptive 
squaws. ; » 



CHAPTER IV. 



Description of a "Bull Train"— Our Herd is Stampeded— The Indians 
Fetch in the Lost Stock and Demand a Reward— They Get It- Our 
Officers Interfere and Prevent a Slaughter— Arrival at Fort Ker-. 
ney, Nebraska— Scenes Along* the Route— "Buze" Buzzes into 
Camp— Black Gallinippers— Overland Stage— How the Boys Guard- 
ed It— Whiskey Goes Up to 25 cents— First Buffalo "Chips"— A 
Splendid Fight Over a "Chip," «&c. 



After leaving the Indian camp and proceeding on our way to our 
camp about a mile, we discovered that the moccasins which I had 
bought were missing. I at once hastened back to the camp and re- 
quested the young dame to bring out the shoes. I noticed that her 
manner had changed and that she now seemed unwilling to converse 
on any subject, especially on the shoe business. 

I demanded the slippers first in a friendly manner, then I became 
angry and threatenod to bring down all the "Washington soldiers" 



32 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

in the United States upon thena, but all in vain. I was soon ordered 
in atone not to be mistaken, to "Si-tuk-ku tepe," which I aftewards 
learnt meant "make yourself scarce in the immediate vicinity of this 
respectable and peaceable community." Not one of them could now 
speak a word of English, and pretended not to understand a word of 
what I said. 

I left, swearing eternal vengeance on the "Ingin," and determining 
to have a scalp for every dollar paid on those moccasins. However, I 
will add right here that the scalping part of the resolution is yet to be 
carried out, for some how or other things didn't pan out just as I 
thought they would, and those Indians are still wearing their hair. 

Billingsley gave me away in camp, and I was made to suffer in 
flesh and spirit by their taunts and jokes until the thing got old, and 
something new sprang up to take its place. 

During this season the Platte route to Denver City, Salt Lake and all 
the military posts on the North and South Platte were lined with 
Government, emigrant and transportation trains. No railroad had 
yet penetrated the Western desert, but all supplies for soldiers, miners 
and settlers in Oe Rocky mountains and a large proportion of the 
Pacific slope had to be transported by great wagon trains for a distance 
of from 600 to 1,500 miles. 

The j-cene along this, as well as other routes, southwest and west, can 
hardly be described. We were not out of sight of trains for a distance 
of 500 miles. Every night our camp was composed ot many different 
trains, with men of all nations as teamsters. It was a common thing 
to see in one of these camps Americans, Englishmen, Germans, Mex- 
icans, Negroes, Half-breed Ihdians, full-blooded bucks— in fact, all na- 
tions on the face of the earth, except China, were represented in almost 
any of these camps. The Chinaman had not yet found his way to 
the Pacific slope, but like the grasshopper plague, they swept down 
on California the year following in vast nurnbers. 

In passing these slow trains with their five tons burden of freight 
to each wagon, drawn by from six to twelve yoke of cattle^ you ask 
the dark skin, long haired individual of the broad-brimmed hat 
"where are you from?" he immediately flourishes his long heavy 
whip and looking along his line of cattle he replies in a singing sort 
of a tore, "Omaha-ha-hay-ha-hoy, whoa buck, come here Grant, you 
Sheridan, g'long old Abe," and he goes on calling his twenty-four 
head of cattle, after as many of his favorite Generals, and thus one 
could tell just where the "buUwhacker's" sympathies were centered, 
North or South. You ask him where he is bound for, and in the 
same tone he sings, "Idaho-ha-ho ha-hoy," and you must understand 
that this train is destined for Idaho. Look upon the canvas cover of 
his long wagon, and you read in rude charcoal letters: "Hell Roarin' 
Bill, from Bull Crick, Va.," or "ax no questions ile tel yer no lys," 
"Min' yer bizness," or some other poetic expression. 

During the day of our camp in Kenakuck, several trains came up 
and went into camp to await the receding of the creek which was too 
high to cross. We mingle together, trade ponies and swap in every- 
thing, and gambling is indulged in. Poker is the one great business 
of everybody on the Plains. No man was ever so pious as to ac- 
complish a slow march across the Plains without playing poker. I 
doubt very much if Horace Greeley escaped the thousand snares and 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 33 

temptations of this kind when he made his second trip in a spring 
wagon over the desert. 

We had one man whose mania was '*chuck-a-luck;" he opened his 
bank at every camp, and took in the "bullwhacker" whenever op- 
portunity afforded. The second night in this camp comes on, our 
pickets lines are shortened, so as to get all within as short a scope as 
possible, supper is over, and the usual amusement of card playing is 
commenced. Through the thin shelter tents can be seen the dim 
lights of a hundred tallow candles, and the low murmur of voices are 
audible: "Gimme two cards," "I'll take three," "Five dollars on mv 
hand," "I'll see that and go you five better," " I raise you twenty," 
"All right, ril see that," "Flu«h," "Four kings— my pot." These 
are some of the expressions and phrases which fall upon the ear of 
the guard as he treads his lonely beat along the lower edge of the 
creek. Midnight draws near and the candles have burned low down 
into the bar of soap which serves as a candlestick. There is no moon, 
but the stars look down upon the sentinel and wink as if to give him 
warning of that which is about to transpire. 

"Whoop, whoop, whoop-ee-ee," and the rattle of a stiff buffalo robe 
is heard at the edge of the brush near the creek. There is a sound as 
of a rushing wind. Picket pins fly through the air with a whizzing 
sound, tents are snatched from their fastenings, horses, mules and 
ponies dash in one solid mass through the camp, upsetting wagons, 
ambulances, and everything in the way, and in one instant that camp 
was ponyless. On, on, away they fly, like a cyclone, taking every- 
thing before them, now joined by a herd of cattle; now reinforced by 
a herd of naules a few miles further on— on they go, and the sound 
of retreating hoofs dies away in the distance and the trembling earth 
is again still. 

One moment ago all was quiet. Now there is a rushing to and fro 
and all is wild with commotion. We are left alone with our wagons, 
saddles and equipage, but our mules and ponies are gone— no not all 
gone, for here and there are a few mules who failed to break their 
fastenings in the first rush. However, all the mules had escaped 
from the corral, and only a few that had been well fastened outside 
remained. 

Quiet is soon restored, the guard tells his story and we begin to un- 
derstand the situation, the boys swore that when the sun should again 
illuminate the eastern horizon, some bloody Ingin must pay the for- 
feit with his worthless life. There is no sleep in camp that night, and 
by daybreak several squads are organized to go in pursuit. All the 
remaining stock are saddled, and mounted upon them, aud some oo 
foot, we start back toward the Missouri river. 

With the dawn of day comes several bands of Indians leading 
ponies and mules— a part of our stock. 

"Ingin fitchee pony back. Soger give poor Ingin good-me quaaspin,'^ 
said one young buck, who looked like he had grown fat on the heart's 
blood of "sogers." 

"He says he has brought the ponies back and wants a good thrash- 
ing," explained one of the boys. 

Of course we didn't stop to parley, but took forcible possession as 
fast as they came in. While we had several bucks surrounded, and 
Fiin was discussing the various methods of "killing the bloody ah 



84 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

thens/' two more Indians come riding into camp leading ponies. 
Bunton and I at once reco^fnized two of our new acquaintan^'es of the 
df^y previous, who "set up" the canine soup. It was enough. The 
sight of these can(ine)bles called up the scenes of the day before; and 
for a few minutes things looked decidedly like a massacre of the whole 
gang would take place. Flin made a shillalee of his carbine, Bunton 
drew his rusty sabre, while Billingsley seized one of the savages by 
the throat and jerked him roughly to the ground. Then there was a 
few yells, which brought the rest of the gang together, who all at 
once broke out in all the broken Eoglish they knew and begged for 
mercy. 

Our officers interfered, and the reds got off with a few bloody noses 
and black eyes, and as they disappeared around the bend of the road 
they gave us a parting salute by drawing large scalping knives from 
their belts which they flourished over their heads. 

"It won't be safe to meet those fellows, boys, where the odds are 
against you," said Major Squires, "and I advise you to kepp on the 
look out." 

It is needless to say that no more ponies were brought back by 
those Indians, although a few civilized Pottawatamies were after- 
ward employed to assist the boys in the pursuit. 

Two days were spent in gathering up our stock, many ponies and 
mules being so badly crippled as to render them useless, and many 
were never at all found. I had procured an old mule, and during 
the day wandered off several miles up the creek alone. While hunt- 
ing for a ford, my attention was attracted to a pony near me fastened 
in the woods. On approaching nearer I recognized theold hero, 
"Garibaldi." Then I remembered that my old wayward friend, 
Cahel, had not been with us for several days, and I at once began to 
search the woods for him. I had not much trouble in finding him. 
He was lying beside a log half covered with leaves, and wrapped in 
his blanket. 

He had a severe fit of delirium tremens, and although he recognized 
me, he could not speak my name. His hand felttor his canteen and 
he raised it toward me. I understood at once that he must have 
whisky, and I hastened off to the village for the needful. Returning 
an hour later, 1 found hiiu leaning against the log, and in terrible 
agony; raising his head I poured a few drops down his throat but he 
at once threw it up. He seemed very willing to try again and after 
repeated efforts got it to "stick." He soon was able to talk. He could 
give no account of himself; but thought he had been led off by some 
Kickapoo Indians. 

Leaving him at a small Indian hut where they promised to take 
care of him and his pony. I left him with a promise that he would 
soon follow. We never saw or heard of Sylvester Cahel again, or 
his faithful old pony. Returning thirteen months after, I made a 
diligent search, but could get no trace of him. Strangers occupied 
the little hut and none could give any information. He may have 
been murdered and robbed. His wife lives in Richmondale, Ohio, 
and if this should meet her eyes we hope she will furnish the author 
with any information of this lost soldier she may have. 

Of the boys now living, who crossed the plains on this expedition, 
the writer is able to furnish the whereabouts of but a few. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 35 

Sergeant Abe Pancake lives near Milton. Cabell county, West Vir- 
ginia. He was a noble, and faithful soldier, and will be kindly re- 
naeuQbered by all w^ho knew hina. John Brammer, Wm. Martin, 
James Bruce, Martin Bazei. G. H. Holliday, and several others, live 
in Lawrence county, Ohio. They all bore an active part in this war, 
besides a full share of the field of battle in the war for the Union. And 
many of thena bear marks and afllictions as mementos of the hardesst 
and coldest winter ever passed through by any soldiers on the plains 
or in the Rocky Mountains. 

We moved the next day, but in a very crippled condition. But now 
in order to be brief we must pass over many incibents and adven- 
tures along the route and hasten on. Every day's march brings 
with it new scenes and adventures, ar^d as we pass slowly over the 
garden spot of the world, many of our men resolve to make their 
luture home in Kansas or Nebraska. 

Thirty days have passed and we arrive at Fort Kearney, Nebraska. 
The weather has been beautiful and we have had abundance of sport 
hunting anielope, wild turkey and prairie chickens. In our com- 
many w^ere forty Henry rifles— 16 shooters. These had been brought 
into requisition and their value had been greatly enhanced. We are 
now upon the great Platte river. At Fort Kearney there is plenty 
of timber on theriver, and occasionally some scrub oaks and cotton- 
wood are found as far on as Fort McPherson, but beyond that for 
three hundred miles all is a sandy desert, with not a stick of wood to 
be seen. 

We lay at Kearney several days, and for want of sufiicient grass 
are compelled to feed our ponies on corn. Many of them had never 
eaten corn and it required some starving and considerable patience 
to iiet them to take hold. While there we visited the scene of the 
"Phil. Kearney Massacre." Here a large number of Indians were 
decoyed into the mouth of a battery of artillery and mowed down 
with grape and canister until but a few were left to tell how it felt. 
This was done some years before, by order of the brave Gen. Kear- 
ney. 

The barren sand bluffs back of the fort for many miles are strewn 
with the carcasses of thousands of buffalo which give us the impres- 
sion that we would soon be among them. But we learned that these 
had been killed several years and that their carcasses were preserved 
by the alkali in the atmosphere. Indeed they were so well preserved 
that in many cases the bodies were whole and gave forth a sound 
like that of a bass drum when struck with a club or gun barrel. 

"Buze" Liad5ey, one of our boys who was always lull of curiosity, 
mounted his old mustang and Vv^ent over to the timber on the Platte, 
a distance of over three miles, but not out of sightof the camp, on a 
prospecting tour. 

He had just entered the bush when we saw him whirl and start in 
the direction of camp like a scared wolf. Buze boasted of having the 
fleetest pony in the "outfit," and on the occasion he seemed to be do- 
ing his best. We could see nothing pursuing, and of course we were 
at a loss to know what his hasty retreat meant. And as he neared 
the camp we could see that his hat was in motion, making rapid rev- 
olutions around his head. Then a cloud was visible, black as an 



86 ON THE PLAINS IN »65. 

Egyptian midnight all around him, as he appeared, his form and his 
pony too were almost invisible. 

"Black galinippers," shouted an old Bullwhacker. "Git inter yer 
holes and pull the hole in arter yer." And the old whacker made a 
dive for the nearest tent ; then like a town of prairie dogs we all dived 
into our holes, not any too soon, for Buzecame buzzing intocamp 
like a hurricane, and tumbling from his kicking pony and seizing a 
stray blanket threw it over his head and sank down in the hot sand. 
Such a sight we never saw. 

The frightened, frantic pony went tearing through the camp rub- 
bing against everything which came in his way. The Insects began 
to settle and find their way into every crack and crevice in the 
tents. 

"Burn powder," shrieked the Bullwacker. And in a few moments 
a great cloud of smoke arose and the invaders fled, not, however, 
before they had nipped a good many ponies and came near causing 
a stampede. Lindsey's face was a sight to behold. In a few mo- 
ments his face had swollen until his eyes were closed. After this we 
were compelled to burn buffalo chips and wet powder before we 
could sleep. 

Every day since leaving Missouri river, we had been passed by the 
western bound over-land stage and the incoming daily stage from 
Denver City. 

Those v/ho have not seen an over land stage on the road from the 
Missouri river to the Pacific slope, cannot form an idea of thespeed 
with which they travel. Stations are from 30 to 30 miles apart. 
These stations are the most desolate looking places that the eye of 
man ever looked upon. The stables in many places are built of sod 
or dobies and contain from twelve to twenty head of excellent, well 
fed, but hard worked horses. Beyond Fort Kearney all stations are 
guarded by soldiers, generally a detachment of infantry and cavalry. 
The coach is always accompanied by from four to twenty cavalry 
guards, as the danger may require."^ We will try and describe the 
scene of changing horses at one of these lonely and desolate ranches. 

See, away yonder in the distance, a cloud of dust is visible. Now 
it clears away and nothing can be seen, But it is enough ; the men 
of the ranche understand it, and in an instant all is business about 
the stable, and soldier's quarters, which areuuder one dirt roof. Six 
match horses are harnessed and rushed out in front. Then a squad 
af cavalry, mounted upon ponies, take their places near the road, a 
keg of fresh water is placed in readiness, and everything is ready 
Look ! there they come, just yonder over the butte, fifteen miles per 
hour, on, on, not slacking their speed for any obstacle, up and down, 
at a fearful gallop, now they dash down the road leaving a dense 
cloud of dust behind them, and in an instant the rubber is applied 
and the panting, foaming horses come to a stand-still. 

The mounted guard, covered with dust, straggle in close order be- 
hind. The driver, who is the most important man on the plains 
(in his own judgment,) has cast his lines to either side and the horses 
are quickly removed, fresh ones take their places and in two minutes 
the old stage moves rapidly away, and soon is lost to sight like a 
ship on the sea. 

There is no time to be lost, for this stage must run seven hundred 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 37 

miles in seven days. But this stage line is a thing of the past, and 
has long since been superseded by the iron horse, and the old stager^ 
have lost their prestige, and many of them gone to their graves in 
sorrow. 

At Kearney all trains of all descriptions, except those with military 
escorts, were stopped and organized into divisions. A wagon master 
from some of the trains was selected to take charge of the division 
with the rank of "Major General of Bull-wtiackers ;" his authority 
depended a great deal upon his pluck and his skill as a pugilist, or 
his ability to get the drop on an unruly subordinate. 

After one division had left, trains were sometimes delayed for a 
few days in order to make up the next division, but a division left 
the fort almost every day during the spring and summer. This was 
done by the military authorities for the better protection of human 
life and property against the hostile Indians. 

Five miles beyond Kearney is Dogtown, a village of perhaps three 
hundred inhabitants. There was not one frame, brick, or stone 
house in the town. All were of adobes, or sod, with dirt roof. A 
few of us, on the day we left Kearney, were out chasing a gang of 
wolves, and had straggled behind, when we came into this dirt vil- 
lage. As usual we found a large number of ponies standing in 
groups around the ranches. On this particular occasion there was 
something unusual going on. The boys seemed to be excited and 
very angry. Crowds were gathered here and there, and some were 
juakinir wild gestures, others were swearing, and there seemed to be 
an earnest protest against some outrage which had no doubt been 
perpetrated — perhaps by some citizen upon one of our boys. 

" What's the matter here, boys?" we asked as we rode up. 

*' Matter, matter; why, matter enough," siid one fellow with an 
injured look on his saddle colored face. 

'' Well, what in thunder is it?" we again asked, as we dismounted 
with a determination to maul the man who would dare barm a hair 
on the head of any of our comrades. 

"Come here, boys," and we rushed over to a big corporal. "Now 
I want to tell you this, and want you to keep cool. Don't get ex- 
cited, for we're going to make things all k'rect before we leave this 
burg, and don't you forget it," and his face gave the impression, that 
something awful had happened and something startling would soon 
transpire. 

'•All right, Corp.; what's up? We're with you. Don't keep us in 
suspense." 

Again his face assumed an injured look as he said in a low, confi- 
dential tone: 

'^Boys, whisky's riz to 25 cents a glass, and it's an imposition which no 
true Virginian will ever stand and live;" and on saying this he 
rammed his big list half-way through the sod wall of the low filthy 
ranch. 

So this was the trouble. It was evident that the boys would strike 
for lower prices on whisky. They had been paying first 10 cents, 
away down in Kansas, then as we got further west it jumped all at 
once to 15 cents, and now 25 cents is demanded. Well, to make the 
thing short, the boys didn't pay 25 cents, but mildly persuaded the 
ranchmen to furnish a limited number of drinks at 15 cents. 



38 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

But the boys had to come to it at last, and before the plains had 
been crossed and the Rocky Mountains were reached they thouy:ht 
25 cents a very pious, honest price for a lijlass of Irish fire-waier, and 
often had to pay 50 cents for a very poor quality. It was remarkable 
that when 50 cents was the price, they drank more than when pay- 
ing ten cents for the nasty stuff. 

Between here and Cotton- wood Falls, or FortMcPherson, asit is now 
called, for the first time we had to burn buffalo chips, so called, but 
in reality ox chips. These chips are dropped every day by the vast 
herds of cattle which belong to the passing trains, who graze along 
every foot of the trail. In two hours after they are dropped, the 
burning rays of the sun and the hot sand had completely dried them 
ready for fuel, so that one train passing furnishes chips for the next 
one following. 

We cut a narrow ditch in the ground for a fire place, over which 
we set our coffee pots, camp-kettles and frying pans, then place our 
chips under the vessel and set fire to it, and in a very siiort time 
have our "sow-belly'^ fried and coffee boiled. 

For some distance after leaving Cotton-wood chips are extremely 
scarce, and as a result, when we go into canip a general rush is made 
in every direction in search of the precious little things, which are 
few and far between. 

We remember of a fight on one occasion, over a chip which would 
not be worth mentioning, were it not for the fact that a chip was the 
bone of contention, or a prize for which the parties were contending. 

It wa^ a common thing to see a race for a chip, but on this occasion 
both seemed to reach it at the same instant and a tussle ensued, 
which soon took the form of a downright fight; but, like the cats 
and the monkey with the cheese, both lost the chip, for while the 
fight was going on one of the boys, with an eye to business, slipped 
it in his sack and walked off with it. 

At Cotton-wood we were reinforced by a company of Winnabo 
Indians who were in the employ of the Government as scouts, and 
were uniformed and under a white captain. With these Indians our 
force was increased to aboul 375 men. 

We journey along at the rate of fifteen miles a day; the journey has 
began to grow monotonous. One evening we came down on an old 
stage station, called Alkili Station, or Old California Crossing. It 
must be remembered that our line of march has been along the Platte 
river, which at this point divides Colorado from Dakota. 

Here we went into camp a mile beyond the Station. Our herd is 
sent out under a stronger escort than usual, which causes some com- 
ments and surprise among the men in camp. A stronger camp 
guard than common is placed on duty and we are all ordered 
to keep on our revolvers, and our guns in readiness. 

During the day some of our Indians had crossed the river and 
penetrated far into the barren sand bluffs of Dakota. About 8'oclock 
the herds are brought in and all corralled within the enclosure made 
by the wagous. The night was calm and beautiful and many of 
the boys had been playing cards by moonlight. About midnight the 
guards report that strange, unusual sounds have been heard across 
the river. Presently some of the Indian scouts come in with their 
ponies drenched and dripping with water. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 39 

They had a short conversation with their Captain in their own 
tongue, thea Major Squires orders every man to saddle up and mount 
asquicKly as possible. Two more mdians are sent out; hut soon re- 
turn. We, in the meantime, learned that a party of Sioux Indians 
are on the Dakota bluffs, on the opposite side of the river, and that 
they evidently intended to cross before day-break and cross the great 
wagon trail in the night v/hen they would most likely meet the 
least opposition. There are other trails camped near us and they 
had been warned and had all placed themselves in an attitude of de- 
fense. 



CHAPTER V. 



Battle of "California Crossing"— Three Hundred West Virg-inia Cav^ 
airy Pitfcsd Against Fifteen Hnndred Sioux— Plinn and Two Others 
"Flood" a Dog- Town and Capture the "Burg-iss of the Burrow" — 
Also a SnaK-e- Likewise an Owl, &c.,— The Soldier Would "Sell 
His Shirt First"— Making- Adobes— Rebuilding the Town of Jules- 
burg— Reshcau's Ranch -Antelo*pe Hunting,. 



Just above us the sand bluffs run down to a point near the river, 
narrowing the valley. Just at this point was a ford* 

Leaving our train and camp in charge of a small force, we silently 
stole awny in Indian j31e to the bluffs, through which we hastily 
marched to the point opposite the ford. Here we waited in breath- 
less anxiety for further developments. 

Soon we heard the low quick sound of strange voices and the tread 
of their ponies on ihe opposite bank of the Platte. Now we hear thenr> 
splash as they are forced into the wide shallow stream. We are be- 
coming impatient, when in a low distinct voice we receive the com- 
mand to charge. 

Away we go, every man for himself, down from the bluffs, into the 
valley, across which we fly like the wind, and in a moment come to 
a de^d halt on the river bank. 

Then a shrill war whoop is heard on the opposite bank which is 
taken up by others and echoed from bluff to blufi, and in an instant 
the air is wild with the blood curdling whoop from a thousand 
warriors. 

Now we hear the splashing of ponies plunging through the water, 
only a hundred yards distant coming toward us, and we open fire 
upon them, but we discover that tiiey are riderless and are a part of 
their pa^^k ponies which have escaped. We cease firing and they 
come out on the bank and are soon secured. Day is now dawning 



40 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

and we are astonished that all the buttes on the north side of the river 
are awarnaing: with redskins. 

*v We atjain open fire upon them with our Spencer carbine, and sur- 
prise them by throwing sand in their faces a mile away. They beat 
a hasty retreat to the back hills, and we string out along the river 
bank m line of battle. Our Wanibago scouts are now sent over the 
river to draw them within range of our guns. Once they charged up- 
on our scouts from different points, but a well directed volley from 
our guns scattered them right and left through the bluffs, leaving be- 
hind them several dead bucks and some of their best ponies either 
killed or wounded. 

Our force is small and we have too much property at stake to force 
them into an engagement, and hence our commander determined to 
act only on the defensive. 

For several hours our Indian scouts, reinforced by the famous Bill 
Purdy and his scouts, kept up a running fightat long range, for it 
was impossible to get within pistol shot of them. For several hours 
the fight IS kept up, and occasionally an Indian would fall, but he 
would immediately be thrown upon the back of a pony and carried 
off. Indians never let their dead or wounded fall into the hands of 
an enemy when it can be prevented. About 8 o'clock in the morn- 
ing a large red flag or blanket was raised on the end of a tent pole on 
one of the highest bluffs, and then we can plainly see them hasten- 
ing from every bluff in that direction. We are now confident that a 
hard battle is to be fought, with fearful odds against us. They were 
out of range of our guns, and for an hour we watched their move- 
ments with intense interest. 

While we were thus engaged a prolonged war-whoop is heard in 
our rear on the bluffs through which we had passed only a few hours 
before. The yell was taken up by others on the neighboring hills and 
for a moment we are led to believe that we were entirely surrounded. 
We now turned our attention to the Indians in our rear, aad without 
waiting for erders, started in hot pursuit through the blusff. A divi- 
sion of emigrant and transportation trains have come up and have 
corraled their wagons and secured their stock within the enclosure. 
We are somewhat reinforced in number by their force, and we feel 
reassured by their presence. The Indians were armed with bows and 
arrows, but occasionally an old musket gleamed in the sunlight and 
belched forth in tones of thunder from some far off bluff. They had 
a large number of old guns, but fortunately for us they were out of 
ammunition. 

Once while a squad of our cavalry were in pursuit of several hun- 
dred warriors they were surprised by a band of seventy-five warriors 
who suddenly filed out from behind a hill and made a sudden dash 
upon them. Running within fifty yards and lying flat upon their 
ponies they discharged arrow after arrow under the necks of their 
ponies, which whizzed past the heads of our boys and fell harmless 
on the ground beyond. The cavalry returned the fire with their re- 
volvers, and a chief of the band fled to the bluffs with his leg dang- 
line helpless from his side. 

While we were engaged in this skirmish the whole band of Souix 
crossed the river and went pell-mell for the hills, taking with them their 
women and children, and thus they escaped and crossed the great 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 41 

Platte trail, and were safe ag:ain on the lonely desert on the way to 
Western Kansas on a grand buflFal o hunt, where they load their 
ponies with naeat for their winter supply and then return in the fall. 
In their flight they lost many robes and blankets, which were gathered 
up, but soon dropped again when the boys discovered they were alive 
with graybacks. Thus ended the battle of Old California Crossing, of 
which the Wheeling and all the West Virginia papers gave a glowing 
account under flaming headlines. 

It was a big battle where we lost not a man nor captured an ene- 
my, neither could we tell how many we had wounded and slain, for 
they were borne away by their comrades. We had, however, secur- 
ed several poor old worn out ponies with old worn pack saddles, 
which we threw away as worthless. 

This force of Indians were a part of the 8ioux tribe and were com- 
manded by the big chief. Standing Elk. During the following winter 
we made peace with this same tribe of redskins at Fort Laramie, W. 
T., where I became acquainted with Standing Elk, and found him a 
first-rate boy, but hard to get along cleverly with when drunk. I 
write the old man's historv further on. 

For a few days we traveled on in company with several other 
trains, camping at night with a heavy guard around us, and march- 
ing by day, flanked by our Indian scouts and a detachment of our regi- 
ment. The third day after the fight we arrived at Julesburg, Colo- 
rado, afterward called Fort Sedgwick, in honor of General Sedg- 
wick. 

With Flinn, Cal, (our negro boy) and a comrade by the name 
of Wesley Howell, I wandered ofi" the road some distance to a dog 
town whose suburbs ran down to the roadside. As we had been 
passing along we had seen hundreds of these little yellow pups sit- 
ting upon the holes, and had listened to their little weak bark. We 
had wasted hundreds of Uncle Sam's catridges upon them but had 
failed every time and now we determined upon a new plan. Drown 
them out, yes we could take a camp kettle and a few sacks, and of 
course soon get the sacks full. So on this bright morning we took 
with us these traps and after going half a mile from the road, we 
halted in the thickest part of the vast city of dogs and after stationing 
Cal upon a bluflfto act as picket, we ^selected three holes, which ap- 
peared to connect under the ground. Two of these we stretched the 
mouths of our sacks over, Flinn holding one and I the other, while 
Howell poured the water which was dipped from a pool near by. 
For some time our efforts seemed lost and we were becoming dis- 
couraged when Flinn jumped clear of the ground and exclaimed : 

*• Holy Moses, me sack's full uv'em. I've got the fathor and moth- 
er and all the children — yes, be gorray, and we've^bagged one of the 
fowls, too." 

There was a commotion in Flinn's sack, and so he clinched its 
mouth with both hands and held it!up, and we plainly heard the flap- 
ping of wings. 

** There's a bird there sure, for divil the wings have dogs. Give 
me the end of the halter till I fasten them sufficiently — quick if not 
quicker " 

•*Fo' millions ob Ingine," yelled Cal, as he dashed past us like a 
frightened wolf. 



42 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

"TainU no time to be foolin' heali boss, mount de ponies an* git, 
follow dis niggah for I'se gittin' I is," and he pat spurs to his old 
pony and left u^ wondering what his strange actions could mean. 
But we didn't stop long to investigate; quickly straddling our mus- 
tangs and leaving the camp kettle for ihedogs, we ran to a neigh- 
boring hill, and the sight that met our eyes made our blood run 
cold. We looked for a moment in the direction in which the com- 
mand had marched, and we could see a dense cloud of dust, and scat- 
tered out on the bluffs were plainly visible a number of mounted 
men all on a dead charge, evidently chasing something, but what it 
was could not be seen. We never had seen such a cloud of dust be- 
fere. The air was thick with it. The Sioux of '^California Cross- 
ing" at once flashed before our minds, and we were confident that 
the boys were into it hot and heavy. But where were we ? We 
could now hear shot after shot, and although they were several miles 
distant we thought we could bear the yells of the Indians. 

**I'd give me dogs an' all the game in me sack if I could be wid 
thet)oys this minute, sure an' I would, bedad. Devil a bit would I 
left the road if Pd thought about the pesky redskins." 

We all looked at Flinn as he spoke, and in spite of our hopeless 
situation we could not help but laugh when we discovered the old 
sack of prairie dogs which in his hasty retreat he still held on to. 

Looking back we could see Cal, away in the distance, making rap- 
id strides toward a wagon train six or eight miles back on the trail 
over which we had traveled. 

Our situation seemed a little perilous, but after some deliberation 
we determined to pursue the regiment and if possible save ourselves 
by making what we thought would be a bold dash. 

Seeing that our carbines contained seven catridges and that onr 
Remington revolvers were in good fighting condition, we start in full 
tilt for the road. Reaching this we were entirely hidden from view 
by the dust. It was stifling, and once I thought my breath was gone 
and that I would surely choke to death. Rimning for some miles in 
this way and keeping well together, we suddenly come upon a man 
lying by the roadside, bleeding from several wounds. He was not 
dead, but wounded. We all stopped and supposing him to be one of 
our boys, we determined to save him if possible from falling into the 
hands of the enemy. He was so covered with dust that we could 
not recognize him, and we asked him who he was. 

'* Oh ! Oh I 'ouch, I'm one of the 21st New York," he replied. 

" What's the 21st doing here," we asked in surprise. 

" Why this is Julesburg." 

" Where's Julesburg?" 

** Rightahead of you. Can one of you give me a drink ?" And as 
I stooped to give him a pull at my canteen, Flinn remarked : 

*• Divil a drap of wather would I give any 21st New Yorker." 

The dust had now cleared away and never were we more surprised 
than when we saw a dozen old dingy log huts and some tents and a 
vast rick of sacked flour and grain a hundred yards before us. 

And then this was Julesburg, the'*City of the Plains." But what 
was all this running for, and why these wounded men by the road 
side? It was some minutes before we could fully understand the sit- 
uation. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 43 

The Twenty-first New York cavalry had reached this post a week 
before and had been lying: in camp. They had not committed any 
robberies for some time simply for the want of something to rob. and 
they had concluded to raid on the sutler and commissary depart- 
ment. Our regiment happened to be approaching Julesburg just in 
time to nip their scheme in the bud. A messenger was dispatched, 
who met our command, and we arrived in time to save the post- 
trader. Several shots were exchanged and a few New Yorkers 
found quarters in the hospital. 

The old French sutler felt very grateful and gave the boys a treat 
in the shape of whisky, tobacco and cigars. 

Here we went into camp near the rick of flour, where we remained 
for four weeks, — the first night on our arms, as did the 21st. They 
had made threats which justified the opinion that an attack would 
be made upon us before morning and we determined to sell out at 
the highest market price. The next day the 2lst were ordered to 
Salt Lake City, where they afterward committed depredationsagainst 
the Mormons, and were finally mustered out, many of them, dishon- 
orably with the loss of all pay and allowances. We saw a good 
many of them tramping tiieir way back to the States with return 
bull trains, some of them ragged and all out of money and living 
like the wolves that follow these trains and eat the scraps left at their 
camping places. 

'* What have you in your sack?" asked a Lieutenant of Flinn, after 
the excitement was over. 

" Sure we captured the gurgissof the burrow, and all the citycoun- 
cilmin of the city beyant." 

"What's that you've got?" said several voices at once, as a crowd 
gathered around Flinn, who never had once loosened his grip on the 
old sack. 

"Bedad it's the father and mother and the whole litter of purps, 
and some burds wheech the sergeant an' mesilf drinched out uv a 
hole in the dog-town beyant, an' sure we'd a had every sack in the 
wagon train full entirely, if the pesky nagger hadn't lied about the 
Ingins. Bedad will some of yes get a cracker box 'tii we cage the 
critters?" 

A box was brought, and Flinn shook the contents of the sack into 
the cage. To the surprise of all a dead screech owl, a half sufi'cated 
prairie dog and a small rattlesnake fell into the box one after another. 

*'Och, bedad and the mother of Saints, kill the bloody varmit forth- 
with, immadiately," yelled Flinn at the top of hi^ voice. "Sure if I'd 
know'd that monster of death was upon the inside of that sack, I'd 
a drapped it long afore I picked it up." 

"I'll give the purp for the killin' of the schnakeand swear by the 
mother of St. Patrick that I'll niver hould the sack agin as long as 
me name is Purdy Flinn." 

At each of these government posts on the plains is a posi-trader or 
sutler. His territory extends for the radius of five miles around the 
post, inside of which no other trader is allowed to transact business. 
He is appointed by the government authorities. The oflQceisa fat 
one.and the man who isso fortunate as to get the post-tradership at 
these posts is a millionaire at once, no matter whether he has a dollar 
in the world or not. He will find plenty of rich Frenchmen there 



44 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

ready to furnish hundreds and thousands of dollars for an interest in 
the trade. Goods were sold at the time of which I write at enornaous 
prices ; $15,000 worth of goods could easily be converted to $100,009 in 
money in twelve months. Whisky which was the staple article in 
trade sold here at 50 cents per glass, and $15 to $30 per gallon, and 
found a ready market at that. 

Tobacco sold at $5 per pound, and indeed at Fort Casper where we 
wintered it sold for as much as $10. 

Cove oysters brought from $1 to $1.60 per pound cans. Peaches 
same price, while everything else was equally as high. Wood sold 
at from $40 to $60 per cord, but when we remember that it had to be 
hauled over one hundred miles on wagons we cannot wonder at that. 
The return trains brought wood from near Denver rather than return 
empty. Had it not been furnished in this way the cost would have 
been much higher. During our stay at this post we had many adven- 
tures, which will form the remainder of this chapter. 

"Soldier, will you work?" 

'• No, I'll sell my shirt first." 

This was a common expression among soldiers, but at Julesburg, 
it was more than common. Here, after a few days rest we were put 
to work at making sundried brick or adobes. A number of large 
Government buildings were to be erected for quarters, commissary 
departments, and stables. 

This, the so called ''City of the Plains" had arisen from the ashes. 
A short time before after a hard fought battle, the little town had 
fallen into the hands of hostile Indians who robbed the place of 
everything of value, and then laid it in ashes. 

It was now being built up on a more substantial plan. Volunteers 
were called for, with a promise of being free from other duties, but 
the boys said: "No, I'll sell my shirt first" and the volunteer force 
was small but the brick must be made every morning. But even 
this failed of good results and the work was not pushed along as rap- 
idly as was desired and absolutely necessary, so another plan was 
adopted. When the detail was made there was not a brick maker or 
a bricklayer in the camp, indeed they hid never seen a brick made or 
a brick house built, they were raised in the mountains of Virginia, 
where they lived in log cabins— could build log houses if they want- 
ed them ; but " nary brick house." This was the way the boys talk- 
ed when the officers came around hunting for bricklayers. 

Of course they knew that there was not a log within one hundred 
miles of Julesburg, and of course no log huts could be built. But 
finally, as a last resort, $3 per day was offered for brick makers and 
$5 for layers. It was astonishinsr how many masons and brickmakera 
there were in that little camp. Even Cal and our good natured Irish- 
man had both served a long apprenticeship at both, andFlinn was 
bold to boast that he could lay more brick, or carry a hod up more 
ladders than any living man. So the work went on and in a few 
weeks a half-dozen low one-story houses loomed up and gave the 
place the appearance of putting on city airs. Shingles could not be 
procured, and as a substitute poles and sage brush were first laid on 
and then a layer of gunny sacks, and last about six inches of dirt 
was thrown on, and the roof was complete. But it had to be replen- 
ished often, as the constant winds carried it off into the street. This 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 45 

was the kind of roofing used on all buildings in that country at that 
tinoe. 

Julesburg was at the crossing of the South Platte, where the road 
from Fort Laramie and all the posts in the northwest, and the Over- 
land stage route from Denver City and beyond, formed a junction. 
It was a general "supply post," where long strings of wagon trains 
from Omaha and Leavenworth stopped and discharged thier freight. 

For want of building or storehouse the flour and grain, which was 
all sacked, was piled in two enormous ricks or piles, and when I say 
*' piles" I mean as large as a court house or Plymouth church — so 
many sacks indeed that it is doubtful whether the quartermaster him- 
self knew just how many he had. To get at the value of this im- 
mense quantity, it is but necessary to say that flour was worth thir- 
ty dollars per hundred and corn (shelled) about six dollars. 

Five miles below the fort was Reshcau's ranch. Reshcau was rich 
and was adding thousands to his already fabulous pile every month 
in the year. He had wealth coming in from various sources, and 
this grain and flour pile was his best hold. He would pay from $20 
to $25 a sack for flour when delivered at his ranch — no matter at what 
hour of the night the goods arrived, he was always ready to transact 
business — especially when he knew that before the sun would sink 
behind Pike's Peak the next day, he would clear from $10 to $15 on 
every sack. This was soon noised around among the t)oys and ihe 
thing became very tempting. There was a guard kept constantly on 
duty at the ricks day and night, but it didn't take lonir to make a 
"silent partner" of hifn, with no capital irjvested. Myself and two 
comrades, Wes. Howell and Polk Worthington, were three honest 
boys(?). We wouldn't steal anything from Uncle Sam. Oh, no! not 
flour, anyhow! especially after he had hauled it six hundred miles 
in ox wagons, that would be naughty ! — we did better than that ; we 
organized ourselves into a vigilance committee to catch the rascals. 
The flour stealing went on all right for some time, and old Reshcau 
grew fat on handsome margins, in fact he had a "corner" on flour 
in that market. Down under the river bank, long after the little 
garrison had settled down to sleep, from two to four ponies were hud- 
dled together each night with a lone man in charge. Two or three 
other thieves would slipup throngh the sage brush to a point near 
the rick; then when the guard by a pre arranged plan, had passed to 
the further end, each would shoulder a sack of flour and roturn quiet- 
ly to the ponies and soon they were safe in the ranch of the old 
Frenchman, and the boys had their "returns" in their pockets and 
a jigger of whisky to boot. 

Flinn and another party, concluded to organize a small foraging 
party of their own and share the profits equally. 

The aforesaid vigilance committee got wind, one day, that Flinn 
would makea raid that night. The night was intensely dark, and 
we slipped out in good time. With carbine in hand, we wended our 
way down to near the ranch and close to the trail where we knew 
Flinn and his partner would pass. We took our position and lay 
down in the grass and waited patiently for some hours. We began 
to despair, when we heard a well known voicejust under the river 
bank. 



46 ON THE PLAINW IN '65. 

** Hould a bit ye blatherskite! Let me take a reconisence av the 
situation, aQ seeaf the trail is clear ferninst us." 

The ponies were halted and the Irish naan came creeping: cautiously 
along until he could see the little black looking ranch, then, as if sat- 
isfied, he hastily returned and the two advanced. 

On they came walking beside their ponies and holding thesack^ in 
position until within a few paces of the spot where we were concealed. 
Just then Howell cocked his carbine and the dick, click was plainly 
heard by Flinn, who was in advance. 

"Whoa! Sthop a bit. Bedad I tho't I heard somethin'," and 
Flinn stopped his pony crouched down and surveyed the situation, 
over the top of the sage brush. We saw our opportunity and all 
rose up at once. 

"Halt! Halt ! Now, you thieves, we have got you," wesangout. 

" Houly saints! save us," said Flinn, as he loosened his hold on the 
sack and jumped into the brush, followed by his frightened com- 
rade. 

Over the bank they went, and back to camp as fast as their tremb- 
ling limbs would carry them. The ponies wheeled about, throwing 
the flour to the ground, and followed. 

We now sat down near the sacks and held a conference. Here 
we were in possession of $60 worth of flour. 

" It's too far to camp to carry it back," said Howell. 

"That's a fact. It's much nearer to the ranch," suggested Worth - 
ington. " I'll tell you what to do, Sarge, you slip over to the ranch, 
see who is there and if the coast is clear, strike a trade with the old 
man — sorter get him to keep the sacks for us, you know, till we call 
for 'em." 

So with many misgivings I ventured over and found the coast clear, 
and the old Frenchman on the lookout, evidently expecting a cargo to 
arrive. There was no one else there, except his old Snake squaw, 
whom he called his wife, so we soon struck a trade. I was compelled, 
however, to let him into the secret and give him a handsome margin 
to keep '^ mum." 

The flour was soon delivered and we had $40 in cash and a plug of 
tobacco each. The money was a sort of security for the safe keeping 
of the goods until we should call for them. We soon slipped back to 
camp, and the next day it was amusing to see Flinn and a certain 
commissary sergeant sneaking around camp evidently expecting to be 
arrested every minute. Our consciences were soothed by tho fact 
that Flinn and the sergeant never stole any more flour from Uncle 
Sam. 

Antelope hunting is fine sport, but it requires a vast amount of pa- 
tience and skill to capture these timed animals. There were plenty 
of them running in herds all over the plains near Julesburg, and we 
killed a great many of them. Two or three men would go in squads 
and take the guidon or com pany flag along. This was used to draw them 
in range of our guns. They have a great deal of curiosity and will 
examine everything strange to them. When we came in sight of a 
herd the flig-staff is stuck in the ground^and we lay flat on the ground 
and await their coming — sometimes for hours before they will be at- 
tracted by it. As soon as they notice the flag, even a mile away, they 
will at once commence to move around it, each time bringing them 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 47 

nearer, uatil within shooting distance, when by a well directed fire 
several are sometimes killed at once. But we sometimes shot at them 
at long r^nge, raising our sights to one thousand yards, but very sel- 
dom brought down our game. 

Here we again suffered a disastrous stampede which came near dis- 
mounting the whole command. We had stretched a cable or picket 
line along several large posts, to which our ponies and mules were 
tied. One morning after roll call, while breakfast was being prepar- 
ed, a small black cloud appeared in the West, at first no larger than a 
man's hand) but in ten minutes it spread all over the face of the hea- 
vens and before our "slap jacks " were fried we saw a commotion of 
the waters up the river and soon a hail storm was upon us. And such 
hail! We took refuge in our tents, but in a moment great hail stones, 
as large as goose e^rgs, came down and perforated our rotten tents 
like grape and canister. We covered our heads with saddles and 
boxes or anything which could aflord protection. For a moment it 
seemed like God was angry and had opened the batteries of heaven 
upon us. Several men who had failed to reach shelter in time, were 
knocked down and badly injured. 

Of course, no horse or mule would stand still and be pelted to death 
and as the fury of the storm increased hundreds broke their fastenings 
and commenced to rush frantically through camp, dodging, kicking 
and tearing down tents, leaving the boys exposed to the dreadful hail 
which now came down in all its fury. Other ponies who failed to 
break loose, turned tails to the storm and played base ball with their 
heels. 

Our herd had nearly all succeeded in breaking loose and were now 
joined by others belonging to trains in camp near us. They got into 
a " mill" that is, they commenced crowding each other and running 
'round and 'round and all pressing toward the centre. The storm 
only lasted a few moments and all this occurred in that time. But 
juct as the storm abated and the hail ceased to come down upon us, 
the " mill " was broken by an old mule leaving the herd and dashing 
away, down the valley. He was instantly followed by another, then 
more, and the next minute all were sweeping down the plain and the 
camp was cleared. But we only have time to draw a long breath 
when we see them circle around and come pell mell, right down on 
the camp like a whirlwind. 



CHAPTER VI. 

In Pursuit of the Fugitives— We Discover Wild Horses—Wild Chase— 
The Old Trapper Gives Me the Locality of Antelope— A Desolate 
Scene, &c.— A Lone Hunt— Lost on the Desert— In Sigrht of an In- 
dian Camp— Narrow Escape— "Swinging 'Round th© Circle- 
Misplaced Confidence — "Platte River and Julesburg.*' 



It was a moment of intense horror and which none of us will ever 
forget. On they swept, ropes flying, picket pins whizzing through 



48 ON THE PLAINS IN ^65. 

the air like chain shot — some tangled together— now they plunged, 
blindly, into camp, crushing in our dugouts, tearing down tents, fall- 
ing into sinks and pits, upsetting everything which lay in their path, 
crippling and mangling* each other, and all this mingled with the 
shouts and frightened exclamations of the boys who were vainly 
strug2:lin!4 to dodge one pony only to be knocked down by another, 
or save themselves by blows from sabre and carbine. I never expect- 
ed, nor do I desire to witness such a scene of consternation again. 
The frantic herd now leave the bottom and fly to the bluSs and we 
know that before many days the Indians will beriding our mules and 
ponies on the bloody war-path. We take a look through the ruins 
and to our surprise, find but few men hurt and none killed. Many 
horses, however, were killed or rendered useless and had to be shot, 
A small squad of ponies, during the heat of'the stampede, crossed the 
river and dushed away up the stream and soon disappeared in the 
distance. We at once organized into squads and gathering all the 
stock together we could find, soon started in pursuit. It whs rather 
a hazardrous undertaking for we well knew that large bands of hos- 
tiles were lurking in the vicinity of the post, and of course we went 
well prepared for defense. 

With a small but brave squad of a half dozen men I crossed the fiver 
and went in pursuit of the fugitives who had gone to the buttes of Da- 
kota. We traveled all day over an unbroken waste prairie as deso- 
late as the plains of Arabia, and about 4 o'clock came in sight of a 
beautiful valley whose wide green bottom spread out before us and 
presented a splendid view after a day's ride over prickly pears and 
,wild sage. \Ve ride to the top of an eminence, and away yonder in 
the distance so small at first th^t we could not tell whether they 
were ponies or antelopes, we discern a drove, we cannot tell of what. 

We go down into the bottom, through deep rich grass which has 
grown, untouched by man or beast. We lose sight of the herd which 
we have sighted and are soon compelled to seek a bluff in order to get 
a view of the past plains before us. Again we see our herd, and this 
time see that they are our runaway stock. We make haste and soon 
come upon them. Great was our astonishment to see standing in the 
midst of the gang several large fat and sleek ponies, all strangers to 
us. We had been told that wild ponies had been seen in this vicinity 
but had not believed it. We all at once commenced to lay claim to 
the strays, as we supposed them to be. 

" The black is mine,'' said one of the boys, as he began to prepare 
his lasso for a throw. 

*' The spotted horse belongs to me," yelled another, but before we 
approached within two hundred yards, they shot out from among 
our heard and dashed up the plain. We started in hot pursuit, all 
swinging our lariats, but before we ran a mile the wild ponies were 
in the bluffs and lost to sight. They presented a fine contrast as they 
stood among pur old worn out mules and ponies. The boys formed 
a resolution that they would return and capture them at some future 
time. It was near daybreak when we drove the renegade ponies 
across the river and into camp, many of these were stiff and so crip- 
pled that they barely made the trip. We lost heavily in this stam- 
pede, and several days passed ere we had recovered two-thirds of our 
stock. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 



49 



When these stampedes occurred we always found a largre number 
of stray mules or ponies who got with our stock away out on the 
plains where they may have been running wild for months and per- 
haps years. Of course we were always on the watch for strays. On 
this occasion several mules and ponies were picked up Avho looked as 
If they mig'ht have been running^ wild for years. A small mule made 
his appearance with a heard of strag^jlers which were driven in, and 
from the appearance of his hoofs which had grown out long, as well 
as his m^^ne and tail, I concluded he didn't belong to anybody, so I 
got a partner and we procedeed at once to capture him. This we 
found to be an ugly job. We could not get close enough to him to 
throw a lasso. So we took two lassoes and after tying them together 
formed a large ring of the noose upon the ground into which we put 
corn. This would not do, he had doubtless seen such traps before. 




"You see, Youngster, I've Been in These Parts Nig-h onto Twenty 

Years." 

But we put a decoy there. We got another old mule to draw him 
on by eating the corn. Finally after we had fed up the rations of 
several horses to the old mule who seemed to enjoy the joke, the lit- 
tle donkey was persuaded to step up and into the ring. We hauled 
in both mules. We then threw a rope over his head and had him 
fast. We kept him tied to the picket line for a few days and said 



50 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

nothing. This wa? customary and was considered a legal advertise- 
naent of a stray. If no owner called and claimed him after the first 
two or three days, the title was good— at least as good as the old ras- 
cal down at the ranch cared about, and he always took in all stock 
of this kind when he was sure he would make 160 per cent on the in* 
vestment. This mule came near costing me my life. 

I determined to go on a " still hunt," or rather a lone hunt, with 
no one with me but the old mule as a companion, and accordingly 
sought out an old trapper whom I had heard talk of wonderful hair- 
breadth escapes and thrilling adventures with redskins and grizzly 
b'ars in the mountains beyond. I found him and at once made my 
tetention known, and asked for information as to the best direction 
to take and the locatity for antelope. 

*' Wal, if its antelope yer arter, why I'm the chap that can shoot 
yer on a bee line to the very spot. Yer see youngster I've been in 
these parts nigh onto twenty years and I've crossed the length of this 
trail more nor that many times. I've showed Kit Carson many a 
trick that he never would have knowed, and I've saved old Bridge? 
from the Indians more nor onst, but youngster, yer wants to know 
where the critters use, so I'll tell yer so yer kent miss the shoot. Yer 
squint that pint to the West, 'bout two miles — yer do ? all right go 
thar. Turn squar to the South and make a straight shirt tail up the 
canyon fur three miles. Then plant yer carcass on a noles and squint 
for bucks. Deer? Oh, not deers; Injuns, Sioux I mean. Yer see I 
dont know as thar's any skulkin' 'round, but keep yer peepers open, 
case there likely is, seein' as the mail coach was struck at the Sand 
Hill Buttes a few days ago— wal, when yer don't see nothin', skin 
out fur the peak you see five miles south — can see as fur as yer peep- 
ers can squint — till yer reach the peak, then follow the gulch down 
till yer see a bunch of trees with stiffs in the branches — stiffs? don't 
know what stiffs be? Why dead Injuns. That's whar they enter- 
tain their defunct members. Thar's several salt licks thar, stake yer 
broncho to windward of the lick then plant yerset and wait. Kill 
more skippers thar in an hour than yer can tote to camp with a hull 
caravan of mules." 

I choked him off by thanking him for the information and hastened 
to saddle the mule which we had taken up as a " stray" a few days 
before. My curiosity was some what aroused by the tale of the old 
blarney, and I had the route and location so vividly in my mind that 
I was positive I would be able to go direct to the spot, and once 
there, shoot down a fine, fat antelope and return to camp. I soon 
had the old mule packed with the few things I thought I would need, 
and taking my Spencer carbine and Remington revolver, I was soon 
under way. I had told no one but the old ranger of my intention, 
and but few questions were asked. Taking the overland trail I fol- 
lowed the caynon to the head. There I came out on a high plain, so 
vast in extent that looking to the west I could see as far as the eye 
could reach, but the " peak " was nowhere to be seen. However 
away in the south could be seen a rough, broken country, with seve- 
ral small bluffs, which might be called " peaks" and for these I start- 
ed. I had seen many barren plains since leaving the Missouri river, 
but this scene which spread out before me was the most desolate I 
had ever looked upon. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 51 

The little donkey moved along very nicely and I congratulated my- 
self upon my good fortune in being a half owner in such a valaable 
mule. After traveling for several hours up a rough canyon then 
across a vast, hot, sandy desert, I reached a small stream which I at 
once concluded was the gulch. I guessed that I was now not less 
than fifteen miles from camp and although I had tbou8:ht but little of 
danger, I all at once became very uneasy and wondered why I had 
allowed myself to be fooled in such a manner. ' 

Once on my way, 1 had seen a few objects so far away that I could 
not tell what they were but supposed thena to be antelope, but they 
had disappeared and now I had fears that they might have been In- 
dians. I had reached the head of a canyon which ran down to what 
appeared to be a narrow valley covered with green grass through 
which flowed a clear fresh stream and I now began to approach very 
cautiously. The plain over which I had traveled was strewn wkth 
cactus plants so thick that my mule could scarcely find his way through 
them, and I had not expected any game to be found upon such a des- 
olute waste, but now as I looked down into the little green valley be- 
fore me I said to myself : "Surely there must be antelope here." 
Just then my attention was attracted to something I had just gotten 
a glimpse of over the bluff, and quick as thought I threvir myself flat 
upon the mule's neck. He came to a deud halt. Then his tail gave 
a few quick jerks, his ears came together until their tips touched then 
there was a perceptible movement in his back, and he assumed the 
shape of a rainbow. 

My position was uncomfortable. It was like riding a grindstone. 
In spite of my desperate prods with the two Mexican spurs upon my 
heels and the vigorous jerks at the bridle rein, his head would stay 
down and his back up. From my elevated position, I got one glimpse 
of a large herd of antelope running at full speed down the valley, and 
thought that I caught a faint view of ponies with saddles on them, 
grazing some distance away, but it was like a momentary dream. 
Before I had time for thought the heels of the donkey flew up and his 
spine gave an extra bow, and he seamed to be walking on his ears. 
Had my face been turned the opposite direction I thing I could have 
held my position and baffled his efforts, for I could then have held 
on to his tail. In that short moment I learned which was the busi- 
ness end of a mule. Well, of course the crisis came and the ground 
flew up and hit me on the flat of the back, so it appeared from my 
standpoint — or rather my lay point. This was not the end. Oh ! no, 
if it could have ended here I could have easily forgiven the mule, for 
1 felt that this was no time or place for making enemies not even 
with an ass. In my descent I became entangled in the long rope 
which was wrapped loosely around his neck, and to add to my dis- 
comfort he took particular pains to land me in a thick patch of prick- 
ly pears, nor did he let up at that. Before I could extricate myself 
from the lasso he deliberately turned and kicked square at my head. 
But heshot high and I hugged the cactus burrs without feeling a sting 
as the thorns were buried deep into my flesh. 

The mule now doubtless thought he had done the work for me, and 
he now commenced to plow the sand with my prostrate form, drag- 
ging me feet foremost. My bleeding hands grasped every tuft of 
grass, and every prickly pair which was in reach, but they all pulled 



52 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

up and the plowing went on. Luckily he didn't move fast; but fast 
enough forme. I didn't want to go any faster on that coach. Of 
course I was angry, but I felt willing to forgive the mule if he would 
onlp stop until I could release myself and I tried by soft words to 
convince him of the fact, but he didn't stop. I felt for ray revolver 
determined to end the fun at once by shooting him ; but ray revolver 
had slipped from its scabbard and was out of reach. In despair I al- 
most gave up, for I was certain the mule would soon run, and I knew 
that my by laws and constitution could never stand that. 

Oh how I wished for a tree, or a fence post around which to lock my 
arms, and pull the mule's neck off, but there was no tree in a hundred 
miles of the place. But all things have an end except eternity. The 
donkey stopped to Kick a cactus burr loose from his fetlock, and I 
took advantage of the stop and kicked myself loose from the rope. 

I then seized the pin and with a dexterous stamp of my heel sent it 
into the ground up to the ring, then I stood upon it. The mule gave 
a little pull, found he was fast, then turned, and as I thought smiled 
at me, thus adding insult to injury. I now thought I knew why the 
mule was found adrift on the plains. His master had given him a 
dishonorable discharge. 

I was now mad, and I told the mule so in a long abusive address, 
delivered there where no human could hear it. But I now think that 
I was wasting my breath upon the desert air, for my after acquaint- 
ance with that muleconvinced me that he was not over sensitive and 
that he was quite dull of apprehension and could not take a hint with- 
out a kick, and not even that without returning the compliment. 

I was going to shoot the mule as soon as I could get my gun, but 
the question arose, how could I kill my half without injuring my 
partner's half — which end of the old thing was mine and which was 
his? Then when I remembered that I was fifteen miles from camp 
and in a bad condition to walk I concluded to put off the execution 
until some future time. 

By cautious coaxing I deceived the brute into the belief that 
the past was forgiven, and I succeeded in getting a hold upon the 
bridle. Then I led him back along the furrow which he had plowed, 
until I came to my carbine and revolver. I now proceeded to curry 
him down with the gun until sympathy overruled justice and I let 
up, much to the satisfaction and delight of the mule. 

With many misgivings I mounted again upon the bowed back of 
the mule, not however, until I had drawn from my flesh something 
less than a thousand long sharp thorn's. All thought of antelope or 
any other game had left my mind and I turned my attention toward 
camp. I had proceeded but a few railes out on the desert when the 
awful fact diwned upon me that I was lost. I stopped and tried in 
vain to come to some definite conclusion as to the locality of Jules- 
burg, but for my life I could not tell north from south, or whether 
camp was north or east. O, how I wished for my faithful pony. He 
could be trusted to retrace his steps without a shadow of a variation, 
but the blasted mule could not be trusted at all. 

After taking a survey of the bluffs in the distance and the horizon 
I took ray bearing and determined to trust to instinct. I soon found 
that instinct in a man was not as good as in a wild goose. Again I 
became bewildered and now greatly alarmed at the thought of stay- 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 



53 



ing ail night on that barren waste, a prey to woive3or a victim to 
some roving^ band of Indians. I had been goinj; on a lope for some 
time making as good speed as possible when I suddenly came upon 
a deep gulch and looliing further on I could see more of them and it 
was plain to me that I was getting out of the wilderness. I believed 
that these canyons woald lead to the Platte river and I at once started 
to follow the direction in which they led. An hour before I had 
seen my bones bleaching in the hot sun stripped of their flesh by rav- 
enous wolves, and my scalp dangling from the belt of some bloody 
warrior, I had thought of my home away east in the hills of Ohio, 
and wondered if they would know my fate. But now all was changed, 
and I felt that I would soon be with the boys in camp and sit down 
to a good mess of slapjacks and beans and relate the adventures of 
the day. 




He was Wound up for Twenty-four Hours. 

I had by this time reached a point which looked over a rough 
broken territory, sloping down to a large woodless stream along 
which could be plainly seen a broad trail and away yonder, so faint 
as to be almost invisible to the naked eye, are a few small houses, 
around which are visible a few little white dots, and I exclaimed 
aloud : "Platte river and Julesburg." I now start to descend the 
bluff and all at once I come in sight of a half-dozen fine fat antelope 
just below me in a hollow. They had not observed my approach, 
and I at once turned my mule to one side and got out of sight. 

Here now is a chance foi a shot, and may be an antelope to carry 
home as a trophy of a day's adventures. I prepare to dismount. 
Throwing my carbine over my shoulder I gently lowered myself to 
the ground. No sooner had my foot found a resting place than the 
mule commenced to revolve by making a pivot of his hind legs. 
First he revolved slowly, and I held on to the bridle, thinking, of 
■course, he would soon run down and stop, but he didn't. He was 



54 ON THE PLAINS IN ^65. 

wound up for twenty-four hours, and he kept on going: ; so did I, and 
the speed soon began to increase until I could only touch the high 
places, and finally my feet left the ground altogether, and I was fly- 
ing through the air in a horizontal position at the rate of several hun- 
dred per minute. This went on for some minutes, so it seemed to 
me, and I suppose I would have been swinging around the circle yet 
had the bridle not given away, for I did not dare to let loose. But I 
felt something give and I closed my eyes. Then the rein broke and 
I went like a thunderbolt down an embankment, over and over, and 
finally fetched up at the bottom of the ravine. I felt that I had stop- 
ped but now everything else begun a general moving around. Gradu- 
ally the panorama ceased and I hunted up my scattered effects and 
determined to let antelope go, let the mule go — everything go, and go 
myself, to camp— if I could possibly get there. I soon overtook the 
mule, and determined again to effect if possible a treaty of peace ; but 
he wonldnH treat. I approached him holding out my hand as a de- 
coy, but remembering the lamming of an hour before, he started on 
a dead run and left me, this time for good. When I got my gun I 
set out for camp, following in the wake of the donkey. Once again 
he stopped allowing me :to approach and I concluded he would 
surrender. I could have caught his tail but was afiaidofa tail hold, 
so he moved on and left me again. It was the most aggravating ex- 
perience I had ever had. My feet were sore from being rubbed by 
stiff boots, and I was beginning to hobble along with great di faculty 
when I saw the saddle blanket fall ffrom the old aaule and I hailed it 
as a Godsend. 

I soon pulled off my boots, and wrapped up my feet with pieces of 
the blanket and started on with renewed hope. The shades of night 
are drawing on when tired and sore I stand upon a point a half mile 
from the trail and see the east bound stage pass. Waving the rem- 
nant of my old blanket I tried to stop it but the old driver and the 
escort did not want to be entrapped by a decoy, and they whipped 
up and left me alone. 

Worn out and sick I |arrived at camp long after dark, and found 
everybody in a fever of excitement. The old mule had made his ap- 
pearance with blood on the saddle, (which came from my scratches) 
and the stage men reported seeing what they were certain was a de- 
coy on the bluffs six miles up the road. 



CHAPTER VII. 



The Troops Who Were on the Plains in 1865-Guarding a Paymaster 
Through an Enemy's Country— "We'll Camp There To-Night"— 
How the Boys Were Pooled — The Indians Kill One of Our Boys— 
The Wolves in '.Camp, &c., &c— A Sergeant of Company "K" is 
Killed by Indians— How the Indians Won the Pony--And Lost it 
Again— Sioux Stampede the Cattle, but the Virginia Boys in Blue 
Save the Herd. 

The next day after the antelope- hunt, related in last Chapter, a 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65 55 

band of Indians made a raid on a wagon train sonae miles above 
Julesburg, ^killing a number of teamsters and running off a large 
number-of cattle. They came from the direction of the little valley, 
where I thought I had gotten a glimpse of ponies with saddles on 
them, just as the old mule elevated me, and I was convinced that 
the mule in trying to kill me, had unintentionally saved my life; 
for had I fired one shot there, I would have been skinned alive the 
next minute. 

I felt a new love for the poor old ass spring up, but it came too late 
—we had parted company forever. Thejold Frenchman at the ranch 
had taken him for the modest sum of $75. 

The troops on the plains during this summer and the winterfollow- 
lowing numk)ered about nine thousand. They were composed of the 
11th Ohio Cavalry ,J6th Michigan Cavalry, 6th West Virginia Cavalry, 
21st New York Calvary, 7th Nebraska Calvary, 1st and 2nd Califor- 
nia Cavalries and 22d Colorado Calvary, 3d XT. S. Infantry, the latter 
was commanded by Colonel Manidier. They (the 3d U. S. Infantry) 
were recruited from among prisoners at Camp Chase at the close of 
the Rebellion. They were dubbed "Galvanized Soldiers," by the 
other troops on the plains ; however they did good service and sul- 
lied many privations and deserve due praise. 

Beside the troops mentioned, about 600 Indians were also enlisted, 
and doing volunteer service for the Government. With these In- 
dians their white officers always had trouble to prevent them from 
the barbarous habit of " scalping " their victims, or the dead hostiles 
who fell into their hands. 

The troops mentioned were distributed'over a vast area of territory, 
embracing Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, Dakota, Wyoming, Monta- 
na, and Utah. Each fort, block house, stage station, telegraph or 
mail station, was guarded by cavaliy or infantry troops, as the dang- 
er, locality or place demanded. Our force at Julesburg was soon 
divided up into small squads and sent out to different posts along the 
routes, and we did not all get together again until we formed a re- 
union at Fort Leavenworth the spring following. 

One detachment under an orderly Sergeant bv the name of Shaw, 
was sent as an escort for a train load of provisions for the Ute In- 
dians away up in the Rocky Mountains, while another under Lieu- 
tenant J. Will Myers, a brave young officer, was dispatched to Sand 
Hill Station, in Colorado, to assist in repelling a force of hostile In- 
dians under the chief *• Hatchet Face." This force had a hard fight, 
and lost several men, whose names I now forget. 

Another detachment of our command was sent to Willow Springs, 
in Dakota, as an escort to a paymaster. This detachment was, I 
think, under H. W. Brazie, The writer was with this escort. This 
was an important as well as hazardous mission. The paymaster had 
the pay for several months for a number of regiments, and a few 
months previous a paymaster had been attacked on this very road 
and killed, scalped and robbed, and most of his small and inefficient 
escort fell victims to Indians or road agents in Indian guise. 

We cross South Platte at Julesburg and leave the great overland 
stage route. It is about three hundred miles from this place to Fort 
Laramie, Wyoming territory. The road leads through]a barren deso- 



56 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

late country, untouched by agricultural inoplenaents, so desolate and 
dreary that the heart sickens at the si^ht, and the eye becomes weary 
with looking upon the barren blaSs and hot dry alkaline desert 
through which the road passes. At the time of which I write, there 
were but four houses along the route from Julesburg to Fort Lara- 
mie. These were ranches owned by Frenchmen, at which is a tele- 
graph station and a postofflce, and all these with the soldiers' quart- 
ers under one roof, or very near to each other. 

The mails were carried by pack mules or ponies which were driven 
through from one station to another under a mounted guard. This 
was the duty assigned to all cavalry along the route, and we had our 
share of it during the cold winter which followed. 

All the game the boys killed along the way was so flavored with 
wild sage that it could hardly be eaten, especially the sage hen, a 
large bird much like the prairie chicken. 

The little stations along the route had been but poorly guarded, 
and as a result had been subjected to a vast number of attacks by In- 
dians, during the summer of '65, and a large number of men had been 
slain either at or near these stations, or while en route with the Salt 
Lake mail. A good many massacres of emigrants also occurred, and 
a vast number of cattle and other stock had fallen into the hands of 
the ever watchful and vigilant redskin. 

In fact the Indians had been stalking almost unmolested over Un- 
cle Sam's domain, and our regiment was hailed by the few soldiers 
along the route, who had been holding their lives in their hands, 
with demonstrations of joy which they did not attempt to conceal. 

Only a few* days before we arrived in Julesburg, an attack had 
been made on the block house at Willow Springs, and a siege of sev- 
eral days ensued. 

The handful of men there fought like Turks and held the place 
against fearful odds. They saved the garrison but lost their stock. 
During this fight the Indians placed a white woman— a captive— in 
front every time an advance was made on the fort, and this kept the 
soldiers from firing upon them as effectually as they could have done 
had it not been for fear of killing the poor woman. 

In this engagement, which lasted three days, the Indians lost heav- 
ily, while the soldiers, under shelter of the blockhouse, lost but two 
men. 

At the beginning of the siege the Indians cut the " Talk-a-heap," 
as they called the telegraph wire, and this cut off all communication 
with the outside world. 

The first night after leaving Julesburg, we camped at Pole Creek, 
a new station just established. The logs had not yet arrived from the 
blockhouse. We found about fifty of the Eleventh Ohio Calvary 
here in tents expecting every day to be served up for breakfast for a 
hoard of Sioux Indians, who were reported in that sectien. 

A telegraph oflBce had been established, which was located in a 
small dog tent and the instrument att^iched to a tailgate of a wason 
lying flat upon the grass. The operator in order to attend to official 
business, crawled in on his hands and knees but had to crawl out 
again to turn around. He was a soldier. All operators on the plains 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65, 57 

were enlisted men. No citizens could be induced to live there volun- 
tarily. When a soldier learned to operate he was assigned an office 
with a princely sakry, but had to find a substitute before he could 
leave or be relieved and but few men cared to volunteer, but had to 
be pressed into service. One operator of Platte Ridge on the North 
Platte, had been a prisoner in that office for five years. His term of 
enlistment had long since expired but he was still held — partly by 
force, and partly by increased pay, and the many opportunities for 
making a " million.'^ 

The next morning we move again and soon reach the foot of the 
Dry Ridge, or Alkili Desert. Here we were ordered to fill our can- 
teens with fresh water from a bright clear spring near the roadside, 
and give our ponies all they could drink for it is forty miles across 
the desert and not a drop of water in all that distance. Over this 
vast salt field but little vegetation grows and the air is dry and salty. 
parching the lips and creating an unnatural thirst which nature has 
neglected to provide for. All along the entire distance the way is 
strewn with the carcasses of cattle and mules which have died of 
thirst or heat. Although many of them had lain here for many 
years, they were in a comparatively well preserved state, the coy- 
otes had eaten out the inside, leaving the frame and skin in a dried 
and perfect condition. 

It was a common thing to see two or three wolvas crawl out of these 
carcasses and run for life across the prairie generally followed by a 
dozen or more soldiers all shooting revolvers at thetn at once. We 
passed a poor old fox, who had given out on the way and had been 
turned out to die. A gang of coyotes had attacked him and were 
about to wind up his sufferings when we came in sight, and they 
fled, and we ended his misery by shooting him on the spot. 

We had journeyed on slowly all day long, the sun had dropped 
low down in the western horizon and we presented the appearance of 
having passed through a shower of fine salt. Horses and riders were 
all one color — white. 

We had been riding along for hours in utter silence wondering 
if thedesert would never end. Our canteens had long since been 
emptied and our ponies began to show signs of thirst and exhaus- 
tion, when just beyond us suddenly looms up like a vision, what ap- 
pears to be a gigantic house with a tall spire pointing far up into the 
clouds. 

An exclamation of wonder burst from the whole command. Never 
were men more surprised. It was a diversion which served at once 
to relieve the monotony and help us forget our sujfferings. 

*' We'll stop at the house to-night," said one of the boys. 

"It can't be but a few miles away," said another. 

*' Boys." says Lieutenant Brazie, " that is Court House Rock, and 
it is thirty miles distant. We'll camp under the shadow of that rock 
to-morrow night, if the Indians don't head us off." 

"Thirty miles away! It can't be possible," said several of the 
men, who would have bet on their carbines shooting into the very 
dome of the great Sham Court House. 

" Yes, it is a big day's march for us," replied the Lieutenant who 
had been posting himself as to the scenes along the road. 

Several men wanted to bet $50 and give their note payable " on or 



58 ON THE PLAINS IN 'Q5. 

before next pay day," that he was mistaken on that point, but the 
Lieutenant already held their paper for all money due them from the 
United States, so no bets were taken. 

As the great rocii disappeared in the fast approaching darkness, a 
little light gleamed forth away down in the little valley at our feet 
and a thrill of joy shot through every breast, for we knew we were 
approaching Willow Springs and would soon bathe in the clear 
sweet waters of the littiestream which flowed through the valley. 
This was the scene of the fight described above. 

This blockhouse was a fac simile af all others along this route and 
a description of it will suffice for them all. It is of pine logs, built in 
a hollow square and about 50x75 feet. It has two rows ot bunks in- 
side, one above another, with two rows of port holes. Each man has 
a number which corresponds with the number of his port hole, which 
is just above his bunk. His gun is kept in the rack over this hole 
and is ready for use at a moment's notice. On top is a " watch tow- 
er," a low structure where a guard is kept on duty day and night. 
This watch house is bullet proof and it is as safe there as inside the 
building. At a signal of danger from the guard in his lofty position, 
every man immediately rushes to his port hole and in an instant the 
yawning muzzle of a musket bristles forth from every opening. This 
was the reception we met with on our arrival on the evening in ques- 
tion. As soon as we could make it appear to the satisfaction of these 
soldiers that we were not redskins, but friends, they drew in their 
guns, and threw open the large gate of the enclosure and gave us a 
cordial welcome. Here we found some of the 6th Michigan Cavalry, 
11th Ohio Cavalry, 3d U. S. Infantry and a few of our Winebago 
scouts who had left us on our arrival at Julesburg. 

Early next morning a few of us went up the creek a short distance 
to see an ancient Sioux Cemetery, or a place where the Indians had 
ui^ed to deposit t'oeir dead. We found a beautiful little grove of scrub 
oaks and Cottonwood trees, which looked grand to our eyesafter being 
so long out of sight of timber. 

The grove had been held sacred by the Sioux as a burying place, 
and it was told us that they used to convey their dead upon the backs 
of ponies for a hundred miles in order to give their dead warriors a 
good send off to the happy hunting grounds, from this charming 
spot. 

But there had been no interments here for some years, owing to the 
fact of the blockhouse being built so near. On the limbs of every 
tree were the remains of those who had long gone over the '* dark 
Indian river.'^ The place had about it a certain gloomy aspect as 
wind sighed through the leaves and ruffled the old rags and skins, 
which hung in shreds from every limb. These were the winding 
sheets and shrouds of the dead, whose bodies had long since been de- 
voured b3^ the long winged raven which sailed around the spot adding 
to the scene a certain melancholy and ^looni. Under the trees, the 
ground was strewn with bones of every part of the human- body. 
Ghastly skulls with upturned face^, stared at us from every side. 
Then too, there were many curious relics under the trees, such as ar- 
row heads, old gun barrels, and stone pipes, many of which, with bones 
for making finger rings, the boys gathered up and carried off. 

But the sound of the bugle called us and we were soon on our way 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 59 

to Fort Laramie, having received a telegram to proceed with the 
paymaster to that Post. 

Fort Laramie was several hundred miles further Northwest, and 
we now began to realize that our final destination and winter quar- 
ters is in the Rocky mountains. 

We have to pass through a country rough and rugged, along the 
North Platte abounding with many curious scenes and swarming 
with hundreds of hostile Indians. 

As we proceeded on our march we began to see how badly we had 
been deceived in the distance to Court House Kock, and we find that 
objects in this country appear much nearer in the evening than 
morning. 

As our Lieutenant had said, we camped under this rock the first 
night after we left Willow Springs. As we approaced we could see 
plainly the figures of several of our men who had gone on before 
and ascendad to the very dome of the "Capital." Although they 
were many miles away, and did not look larger than a man's thumb, 
yet each one could be recognized, so clear was the atmosphere. But 
while we were gazing upon the grand scene a curtain of mist spread 
over its crest and for a moment it was hid from our vision. Then it 
cleared away and we could plainly hear the shouts and see the boys 
waving their hat just under the passing clouds. 

That night we caught hundreds of small fish from a brooklet which 
flowed at the foot of this great rock, and all night long we listened 
to the whooping of Indians several miles north of us who seemed to 
be having a war dance. Then to add to the gloom a pack of hungry 
white wolves set up a wail of woe and we had to abandon the thought 
of sleep and take our places among our ponies in order to prevent a 
stampede and protect our ponies from the gang of ravenous wolves. 

It was a gloomy night, and just a little foretaste of what is to fol- 
low a few mouths hence in the mountain country beyond. 

Our next day's march brought us to Chimney Rock, another won- 
der of the plains, but we had a man killed and scalped by Indians 
during the day, in sight of several of our men who were helpless to 
render assistance, although they did everything possible to save 
him. We must not pass without giving some of the particulars con- 
nected with this, for'he was the first man we had killed andscalped 
by Indians. 

A few men belonging to companies "H" and "K" had, contrary to 
orders straggled behind, and getting out of sight, they left the trail 
and rode some miles through the blufl's, toward the Platte river. 
They were in quest of antelope which they soon found. Of course an 
exciting chase took place, and one of the boys, a Sergeant, became 
separated from the rest and ran some miles down the river in hot 
pursuit ot a herd of game. 

A band of Indians concealed in the thick brush upon the river 
bank lay quietly in waiting until he approached, when a shot frooa 
one of them pierced his heart and he fell dead. Not, however, with- 
out being seen by one of his comrades who saw him fall and sum- 
moning his other companions, they rushed to the rescue but too late. 
The redskins had scalped and stripped him of all his weapons, tak- 
ing his saber but leaving the scabbard behind. Although there 
were a score or more of them they fled to the hills leaving the boys 



60 ON THE PLAINS IN 65. 

in possession of the dead body of their comrade. Perplexed as what 
to do under the circumstances, the men tinally decided to cover the 
body up, and report to the command at once. A hianket was thrown 
over thernutilated corpse, and the men came with all haste and re- 
ported the sad fate. A detachment was at once sent back, who bur- 
ied him where he fell. This served to put the boys on the alert, and 
ever after we were more vigilant and dis^creet. 

From the rugj?ed appearance of the country along this portion of 
the North Platte, we conclude that we have crossed the plains and 
are now approaching the mountains. 

We have crossed Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado a corner of Dakota 
andare weil into Wyoming. We have found abundance of small 
game, but as yet we have not seen one live buffalo. Here we began 
to find the country more fertile, especially in the valleys and bottoms 
along the river. 

It was now the latter part of September and we found the nights 
cold and chilly and heavy coats and blankets add much to our com- 
fort. 

The shades of night were settling around as we a'^cended a bluff 
and found ourselves within one mile of Scott's Bluff. This place is 
surrounded by a mystery and interest. It was the hiding place of 
" Green River" the young road agent. 

We had, long before we reached here, heard of how many trains 
had been stopped and plundered. Cattle and horses stampeded and 
run off. Returning Californians were waylaid and forced to turn 
over their hard earned *'dust," and not long before, a paymaster was 
forced to hand out $60,000 of Uncle Sam's money to a band of Indians 
who all spoke plain English. It was said that Green River was the 
leader of this band, and that Captain Shuman's men, a company of 
the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry, camped at Fort Mitchell, just beyond 
were his confederates in some of these^daring deeds, especially the mail 
robberies. , 

Then we had been told of caves somewhere within these vast lava 
beds, where desperadoes^ Green River and his gang, lived in peace 
and security. 

All these stories which had been told us by soldiers and half-breed 
Indians along the route, threw around the place a romance which we 
found increased as we drew near to the great, rough, shapeless pile of 
rock through which the road passed. 

Approaching from the east, the road winds around deep canyons 
and ravines. As we enter the pass we are ordered to draw revolvers 
and keep close together. High rugged cliffs form a wall on either 
side of the pass, and as our ponies tread upon the hard road the 
walls give forth a deep hollow sound which fills the place with a sol- 
emn awe. 

Our paymaster glanced into every crack and crevice as he rode in 
advance of his ambulance. We had been told not to stop in the pass, 
but that we might return and view the scenery after our paymaster 
had been lodged at Fort Mitchell. 

We go through in more than ordinary haste always on the alert 
for any road agent or band of Indians who might cast their shadows 
across our pathway. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 61 

We arrive at the west end af the pass after traveling for fifteen nain- 
utes in a dusky, gloomy darkness and the welcoaie rays of the set- 
tint^ sun fall across our pathway once more. 

Then Fort Mitchell dawns upon us. We had heard much of this 
post and the llth Ohio boys, who held the fort. Nestled away down 
in a horseshoe curve of the North Platte, we can see the smoke curl- 
ing up from a half-dozen chimneys and see the long rows of portholes 
in the sides of the low dismal walls, reminding us of some ancient 
castle, or perhaps a picture we have seen somewhere. ^ 

Notwithstanding the tales we had heard of how these boj's plun- 
dered everybody who passed or camped in that locality, we left next 
morning with a good opinion of them, and feeling assured that they 
had been lied upon. 

We camped the next night et Chimney Rock, which stands back 
three miles from the river at the foot of the sand bluff and there are 
no other indication of rock for many miles around it. At this point 
on the Platte was another blockhouse called Chimney Rock station, 
and guarded by twenty-five men of the Third U. S. Infantry. View- 
ing the rock from the station it resembles an old furnacestack stand- 
ing alone likea great obelisk. Its height is 170 feet, and from the vast 
quantity jof sand at its base wejudgeat one time it was much higher. 

It was told us that atone time a band of Sioux passing there, an 
oflfer was made by the Chief, of a pony to the young brave who would 
climb to the pinnaele and stand upon it. Several fruitless attempts 
were made but finally a daring young buck succeeded by cutting 
niches with his tomahawk in reaching its dizzy height, but just as 
he was in the act of standing upon the top, his moccasin slipped and 
down became. Had he found a soft place upon which to light he 
would have won the broncho and perhaps been made a chief and 
then married the old chief's daughter and all that, but he struck the 
ground too hard, and so he gave up the ghost — and the pony tor>. 
But the old chief did the next best thing he could. He erected a 
scaffold, wrapped the dead Indian up in all his available assets, and 
wythed him fast on top of the scaffold, then he killed the pony which 
the poor fellow had lost his life in winning, and placed its carcass un- 
der the scaffold for the dead warrior to ride on his hunts in the hap- 
py hunting grounds. We looked about for the scaffold and thought 
we found evidences of it in the shape of rotten wood and small bits 
of hides. 

The afternoon of the day on which we left the;great Chimney Rock 
we reached Fort Laramie, the great supply post of the North Platte. 
As we came in sight of it, we could discern in the distant west a great 
peak looming up like one of the pyramids of Egypt. Just behind it 
appeared a long chain of black mountains, so far away and dim to 
naked eye that we could not tell whether they were really mountains 
or clouds. But we soon learned that the peak was Laramie Peak and 
the mountain in the rear was a chain of the Rockies. So this was our 
first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. We did not think then that 
before two months would pass we would be wading through snow 
drifts and climbing over rocks and crags in the very heart of these 
mountains, but so it was. 

Laramie had recently been the seen eof a great number of raids, 
made by roving and straggling bands of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians. 



62 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

The place for four weeks previous to 
our arrival had beeu held by infantry, all 
the cavalry havinjif gone to the Powder 
River expedition under General Sulley. 

These Indians seemed to know this, 
and took advantage of the situation, and 
almost every day a stampede of the herd 
belonging to the post was attempted, and 
they always succeeded in running off 
some cattle or horses, while the infantry, 
of course, could not follow with much 
success. 

A few dkys after our arrival with the 
Daymaster, ihe remainder of our regi- 
ment came on from Julesburg with our 
WrtiTon train. 

VVe were now put on duty at this Fort 
as herders, mail-runners, scouts, guards, 
in fact all the duties performed by caval- 
ry in that country. The day of our ar- 
.4:ri;;i rival a band of Indians had struch asmall 
herd of cattle belonging to a passing 
fr-j train, and succeeded in getting away 
with about iSfty of them. 

The day following, after we had gone 
into camp, and settled down for a short 
stay, the attempt was repeated. We 
had our ponies all staked near our tents 
and were expecting to be called ou( at 
any minute. Some of our boys were on 
duty as herders with several French- 
men and half-breeds, regular herders. 
We had watched from our camp the 
bluffs ail the morning for the appear- 
ance of Indians, when in a twinkle a 
painted band of Sioq,x filed 

T^. _^„„„ ■ oi- ^ ^ out of a ravine and succeeded 
His moccasm Slipped and 

ClOVvII hd C'cMlliKi." 

ceeded by a bold dash in cutting off a few straggling cattle from a 
small herd belonging to a transportation train in camp below the 
fort. There was not the usual war whoop, but the thing was done 
in five minutes and in a very systematic way. 

In an instant all was in confusion about the Fort and everybody 
watched the new Cavalry camp to see what would be done there. 
No sooner were the Indians seen than every man rushed for his 
pony, and in two minutes we were mounted and m hot pursuit. 

There were no orders issued, no red tape about the thing, every 
man for himself. 

The Indians were surprised. They had not been posted as to our 
arrival, for no sooner did we strike the bluffs close upon their heels, 
than they ceased their efforts to keep the stock before them, but each 
fellow became deeply interested in saving himself, and by the time 




ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 63 

we had run five miles every ox was left behind, some shot full of 
arrows and others crippled in various ways. 

I never saw such a chase before, nor will any of us witness such an 
exciting scene again. The Indians soon separated into small squads, 
and so did we. There were two hundred of us and less than half 
that number of Indians. 

In spite of our efforts and determination to kill the last one of them, 
we could notofaina foot on them and after chasing them until afternoon 
we found our ponies exhausted and the Indians gaining ground. We 
were now insight of Raw Hide Creek, a small stream where the Indians 
had always camped, and where several tights had occurred between 
them and the whites. 

I was with a small squad who had become separated from the rest. 
With this squad were Brazieand Myers, two of our Lieutenants. 

Brazie had taken command and had made his intentions known 
to follow them into the very doors of their lodges, and the boys all 
manifested a willingness to follow him. 

We had lost sight of the other detachments and we checked up and 
gave our ponies a chance to breathe. There were thirty of us in this 
squad, all well armed with Spencer carbines, saber, and most of us 
had two Remington revolvers. There was one thing lacking — rations. 
In our haste we had neglected something to eat ; but we concluded 
to push on and trust to luck, or rather our skill as hunters for meat. 

It was dark when we halted our jaded ponies on the bluffs over- 
looking the meandering stream, and we deployed our small force up- 
on several hills to see what discoveries could be made, and in a short 
time some of the boys leported that a small force of Indians had come 
to a halt in the mouth of a ravine and were massed for a fight. It 
was n:>w too dark to distinguish one from anotlifer or attempt an at- 
tack. So itwas decided to take up a position and await the dawn of 
day. 

All nightlong we lay upon two bluffs and watched the foe intend- 
ing to surround them at daylight and make a clean sweep of the 
whole gang. During the night Brazie's pony died from his over ex- 
ertion of the day before, and our commander was thirty miles from 
Laramie and dismounted. This threw a damper on that gentle- 
man's valor, for no pony could be procured to fill the vacancy with- 
out dismounting some other man, and this the Lieutenant would 
not do. However, we pledged ourselves to stand by him. Well, to 
cut the matter short, day danwed and we were in the act of making a 
bold dash when we discovered that the Indians massed at the mouth 
of that ravine was nothing more nor less than a small thicket of box- 
elder. 

There was one.happy soul in that squad when the discovery was 
made and that was our fat Lieutenant. We turned our faces toward 
Laramie, and late that night after a long march of over thirty miles, 
over a hilly prairie we came into our camp on the Platte almost 
starved and our ponies badly used up. 

We learned from this that it was no easy job to catch an Indian 
when he had one or two miles the start. But we had saved the cat- 
tle, and that was something which under similar circumstances for a 
long timenad not been done. They always got away with the stock 
before the troops could get ready to follow. We had several experi- 



64 ON THE PLAINS IN ^65. 

ences like this while we lay at Laramie. In fact the thing: }?ot to be 
monotonous and we got tired of it before we left the post Several 
times while runoinji the mail ihrouijh to Horse Shoe Station and 
LaBonta, posts above Laramie, the boys were chased and compelled 
lo fight their vvny through. 



CHAPTER Vin. 



Gen. Sullev's Powder River Expedition— Mrs. Fannie Kelley a Captive 
among- the Indians— The Indian Scout "Swift Bear"— Fig-ht at Horse 
Shoe Station— I am ordered there with Reinforcement —Running: 
the Gauntlet— Arrival at La Bonta— Forty miles throug-h an un- 
known country sivarming- w^ith Sioux— Saved by a mistake— "Platte 
Bridge"— The place we Wintered— Scenes and Adventures here. 



We remained at Fort Laramie until after Gen. Sulley's successful 
raid into the Indian country on Powder River. This was the most 
disastrous to the Sioux of any expedition ever sent out against them 
in that country. Gen. Sulley left the upper Missouri with a large 
force of cavalry and at the same time Gen. Wheaton marched from 
the North Platte with a similar torce, and (orming a junction on 
Powder River, ihey made a bold and determined dash into the very 
heart of the Sioux country, sweeping everything before them and 
capturing several hundred ponies and killing several warriors. Mrs. 
Fannie Kelley was at this time a captive among the Sioux, and nego- 
tiations had been for some time going on for her release but without 
success. Six months before this while en route for Oregon, with her 
husband and a train of emigrants, they were assailed at Box-elder 
creek, sixty miles beyond Laramie, and without making any resist- 
ance, believing that the Indians could be persuaded by kind treat- 
ment to let them pass, several of their party were killed, and Mrs. 
Kelley and her little girl were taken as captives; her husband made 
his escape. All efforts bad thus far failed to effect her release, and 
this Powder River raid was instituted more for the purpose of chas- 
tising these Indians and releasing her than anything else. Although 
they were badly whipped with heavy loss of both life and property, 
thev held on to their fair captive, and not until several months after 
tiiis chastisement did Gen. Sulley succeed in releasing her. 

By her Siiill and courage she succeeded in leading a band of war- 
riors, who went with her to Fort Sulley, into the trap, or ambush 
and had them all captured. They had planned a capture of this fort 
at the same time they were to deliver her up and receive the re vizard 
offered by her husband and friends. But she made their intentions 
known by sending anote with a friendly Indian, to Sully, and thus 
saved herself, the fort, her husband's money, and captured the ras- 
cals who had so long held her in bondage. 

Mrs. Kelley, for this act, was some time afterward voted an allow- 
ance by Congress, of $5,000. The Indians killed her little girl the 



ON THE PLAINS IN '66. 65 

next day after the capture of the train. During her captivity, a 
friendly Indian hanging around Fort Laramie, volunteered to carry 
verbal messages to the Indians, and made several trips, always bring- 
ing information as to their number, locality, intention, etc., and once 
or twice saved Laramie by giving timely notice of intended attack. 
Col. Manidier soon learned his value, and had him appointed a s(;out 
in the U. S. service, with the rank and pay of 1st Lieutenant. We 
saw him when he first adorned himself in his Lieutenant's uniform. 
The officers wh') ordered it from the States had it made as brilliant 
and gorgeous as possible. 

He had been decked in a ** breech clout" blanket and wore no hat. 
His new clothes consisted of dress coat, epaulets, pants with gold 
band and large plume and the usual undershirt and drawers, the lat- 
ter of red flannel. The officers rigged him up in all these garments, 
andhe strutted around through camp like a peacock. But it wasn't 
long before *'Swift Bear" got tired of so much clothing, so one morn- 
ing he presented himself before the Colonel adorned in his drawers and 
shirt and the large plume taken from his hat floated magnificently from 
his scalp lock. The band of his hat he had ripped ofl" and tied around 
his neck and the long red sash which he had tied around his waist 
contained a revolver and long scalping knife. 

He seemed to admire ihis style of dress more than the blue uniform, 
and friendly Indians at the post looked upon him wilh admiration 
and jealousy. 

This Indian (Swift Bear,) as he called himself, became of great ser- 
vice to the soldiers along the route and had the confidence of all the 
officers. He performed much valuable service, and was ever watch- 
ful of the interests of all the posts along the North Platte. 

Our officers had nearly all been placed in command of posts along 
the route, or assigned to various duties, and our companies were so 
thinned out by repeated details, that but small squad-i were left to 
each. Our company commander, H. W. Brazie, was appointed 
Judge Advocate, for the Department of the North Platte, and the 
writer awoke one morning to find himself in command of his com- 
pany, — rather a great responsibility for a boy of seventeen sum- 
mers. 

To B^azie's official signature he would attach the letters "J. A." 
This the waggish boys construed into meaning "Jack Ass." After 
remaining here until along in October, 1865, a part of the Powder 
River expedition returned to Laramie bringing with them the spoils 
of a successful raid. Eiijht hundred ponies were driven in, beside a 
large number were packed with plunder captured in the Indian vil- 
lages which had fallen in their way. 

Soon after this one chilly afternoon, when we were all sitting around 
our little fires, report came to Laramie that a band of hostiles were in 
th3 vicinity of Horse Shoe Station, and that stock had been stampeded 
at that Post. We were expecting orders to march to that station, 
when an orderly came to camp with an order for thirty men with 
three day's rations to report at once to headquarters. An hour later I 
drew a detachment of my regiment up in frontof the headquarters 
and with hat in hand reported to the Colonel. 

"Are you detailed to command this detachment ?" he asked, eye- 



66 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

in^ me from head to foot, io a manner that caused many very strange 
feelings to pass over me. 

"I am," I answered as firmly as possible. 

" Eather young, I think, for the expedition I have in view, but I 
guess you will go through, with half a chance." 

My uneasiness was in no wise ea^ed by the disappointed look I 
thought I detected in his face and the expedition he mentioned. 

"I find it necessary to reinforce the garrison at Horse Shoe," he 
went on, " There is a force of Indians lurking around that post, and 
you may have to run the gauntlet before you reach there, but I want 
you to go through, and that too as quickly as your ponies can make 
it." 

I thought for a moment that the floor was moving from under my 
feet, but I quickly regained ray composure, and assuming an air of 
indifference which I did not feel, I answered : 

" AH right. Colonel, we'll go through," and with a parting injunc- 
tion to proceed cautiously and telegraph my arrival, I left his pres- 
ence and was soon at the head of my squad going at full speed up the 
Platte. 

I must confess, that although I felt many misgivings, and that I 
should never have been sent out on such a hazzardous mission — es- 
pecially with such a small force. I felt a pride which lifted me up, 
and I think I would not have for a moment wavered in my determi- 
nation to go through even had I known that my scalp would have 
been "lifted" on the way. It was not bravery that led me on, but a 
reckless pride in doing something many men much older than my- 
self would not undertake to do. As one of the boys remarked while 
on that double-quick march : "Thedurned fool hain't got sense enough 
to know any better." 

Sending out men on either side to the top of the bluffs with in- 
structions to keep even with us and at first sight of Indians to report 
at once, by sun-down we had left twenty miles of the twenty-five be- 
hind us, and as yet caught not one glimpse of redskins. 

Darkness was fast gathering around us and we saw a little spark of 
light away on before, which we knew must be the light in the watch 
tower at the Horse Shoe Station; We were congratulating ourselves 
on our good luck when just behind us came a war-whoop, which for 
a moment seemed to raise every man out of his saddle. We were go- 
ing at a good speed, and had our revolvers drawn. I at once ordered 
a halt, but no sooner had we checked up than the yell was repeated, 
this time in a manner which gave us to understand that we would have 
no business with that crowd, or asFlinn remarked: "Begorray it's no 
place fur a gintleman," and putting spurs to our tired ponies we 
pushed on for the station or blockhouse which we knew must be 
near. 

The Indians, whose number we could not ascertain, followed yell- 
ing like wolves and occasionally firing a shot from their old muskets. 
We fired our revolvers in the direction indicated by their yells, and 
raised such a racket that the 3rd U. S. Infantry boys at the block- 
house believed that we were having a dreadful struggle, and so tel- 
egraphed to Laramie. We soon reached the blockhouse, where we 
found the boys with their rifles thrust through every porthole waiting 
for a chance to shoot. 



ON THE PLAINK IN '65. 67 

The gate, or entrance through the stockade around the stables was 
thrown open, we rushed in, and they were closed. The Indians 
knew too well the danger of approaching within range of those naus- 
kets, and soon left and took to the hills. 

I imnoediately telegraphed to Fort Laramie : 

"All right, we are here, but had to run the gauntlet. No one 
hurt." 

There were about twenty-five soldiers at this blockhouse, which 
was situated twenty-five miles northwest of Laramie and forty miles 
beyond this was the next statian — La Bonta. It must be remember- 
ed that no settlements of any kind were along this route, but these 
stations. All was a lonely, desolate waste of wild, uninhabited 
country. There is no timber except on the streams which flow into 
the North Platte, and they are few and far between. The country is 
hilly, and at the time of which I write, being so thinly settled, and 
guarded, that it was the paradise to the hostile red men, and the 
ravenous wolf, who always seem to prowl together. 

After a warm supper, and a chat with the boys ot the lonely block- 
house, we lay down upon the floor near the large wood fireplace, and 
in the few bunks not being occupied. There was a soldier here of the 
3rd U. S. Infantry who had the typhoid fever, and the poor fellow 
had become delirious. In his wild ravings he imagined that every- 
thing and everybody around him were hostile Indians, and guns 
were all kept out of his reach as much as possible. In the excitement 
this had been neglected and we lay down to sleep leaving him with 
his nurse, whose duty it was to watch him and administer the medi- 
cine which had been sent up from Laramie. 

We were all sound asleep save the lone guard in the watch tower. 
The nurse had become drowsy and had fallen last asleep near his 
now sleeping patient. I cannot now tell just how it was, nor can 
any of the other boys, but we were all awakened at the same instant 
by a shot and repeated whoops, and the cry of "Indians, Indians, 
they are all around the camp fire, come out boys! turn out ! fire!" 
and then another "bang-bang." The hot coals were scattered around 
the fire-place, and the bewildered men rushed to and fro in their un- 
derclothes hardly able to realize what happened or where they were. 
But the fact soon revealed itself, and we saw that the delirious man 
had seized one of our seven-shooters, and believing we were Indians 
he was determined to make a clean sweep of the whole garrison. In 
the excitement isome one unbarred the door, and a rush was made 
for the outside. A dozen or more men in undress uniform ran out 
around the stockade before the fellow with the gun was secured. 
Had the Indians been near that moment the post could have easily 
been captured. We had all settled down around the fire talking of 
the strange occurrence when a red head peered out from beneath one 
of the bunks, and Flinn in a low, trembling voice, said : 

"Sure an' it's a divil of a sthrange country where a man can't 
live inside nor out of the house at all, at all. Is the varmint sa- 
cured?" 

On beingassured that the sick man was disarmed, Flinn crawled 
out from his hiding place and told how near one of the balls had 
shaved his head. 

The poor deranged man had to be held in bed all night long, and 



68 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

it was piteous to hear him plead for his life, for he imagined he was 
in the hands of the Indians and would soon be roasted alive on the 
**blg camp fire" which hesaw burning in one end of the barracks. 

We remained at this station until 5 o'clock the next evening when 
we received the following telegram: "Report to Col. StaggatLa 
Bonta between now and daybreak to-morrow. Telegraph your ar- 
rival." 

" Great goodness ! Did the man think I was made of iron, or was 
he drunk? Forty miles throui^h an unknown country swarming with 
Intiians, and in the night, too ?" These were my reflections on re- 
ceiving the order. 

There was no help for it. We must go. I fully believed then that 
the commander at Laramie was drunk or he would not have ordered 
me to undertake such a hazardous march by night through such a 
country. Then I could not see why we were needed at La BoMta 
more than at Horse Shoe. We well knew that at the former place 
were a full company of Infantry and a large portion of the 2d Califor- 
nia Cavalry. 

But, as Flinn remarked "Orders is orders and must be obeyed, and 
we'll follow the thrall of the Ser^reant." It was dark when" we left 
the post — pitch dark, and I had deferred our start until after night, 
believing that if the Indians were still in the neighborhood of this 
post, we would not likely be observed and would slip away and 
leave them behind. 

I cannot take time to fully describe that long and dangerous night's 
march, nor could I fully realize for a long time after, that it was in- 
deed a reality and not a strange dream or a nightmare. 

After bidding the boys at the blockhouse farewell and receiving 
many tokens of their good wishes and sympathy, we safely crossed 
the creek and came out through the timber on the opposite bank. 
Here we decided to divide our ranks and keep off the road and well 
out on the grass on either side to prevent if possible the sound of our 
horses' hoofs from attracting attention. With cocked revolvers in 
hand we dashed on all night lonsr, never slacking our speed except 
when on top of some high bluff where we would halt for a moment to 
listen, and take what observation we could in the darkness. 

Midnight came, and we knew, that we must be in the neighborhood 
of La Bonta. We reached a point where two roads forked, and down 
before us we could see a long dark line of timber and we knew we 
were approaching a stream. After some deliberation, we took the 
right hand road and soon came down upon a wide bottom — a camp- 
ing place for trains. We had taken the wrong trail. After some 
searching we finally found a ford and following a narrow trail, we 
came out on the broad road again. This proved to be the most lucky 
mistake we had ever made, for we learned next day that at the ford of 
that creek, two miles from where we crossed, there were concealed 
in the brush a hundred painted warriors evidently expecting us, and 
prepared for a general slaughter. 

We had ridden all night in silence, not a word had been spoken 
above a whisper, and now we suddenly halted upon the skirt of tim- 
ber of La Bonta creek. Just across the stream stands the low, dark, 
gloomy blockhouse surrounded by a stockade. No sign of life was 
visible, all darkness and silent. We crossed the creek and are just 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 69 

emerging from this wood wheo clear and distinct comes the com- 
mand : 

" Halt ! Who comes there ?" 

It was hke a voice from the dead. The first audible sound we had 
heard through all that night. 

" We are a detachment of the 6th West Virginia Cavalry, from Lar- 
amie, ordered to report to Colonel Stagg, at La Bonta— is this La 
Bonta?" I replied. 

" Yes. Stand fast for a moment, and send a man forward to the 
gate." 

I complied with his command and we were soon taken inside the 
enclosure. I at once asked for Stagg, and his quarters were pointed 
out. Stagg was not in command here, but was on his way to Salt 
Lake, gathering up his scattered regiment as he went on. 

The Post was in command of a Captain of the regular army — 3d U. 
S. Infantry. He had held an office in the Rebel army, and we had 
heard of him as a high toned red taper, and, as a result, none of the 
soldiers along the route cared to be placed under his harsh rules. 

I paused for a moment at the door and could see the glimmer of a 
light through its cracks and hear the low murmur of voices within. 
It was 3 o'clock in the morning and w^hat on earth could be going on 
at that untimely hour? 

"Come in," came in response to my knock. I pulled the latch 
string and entered, leavirg the door ajar while my hand rested upon 
the latch within. Aroundarude table sat three officers. They were 
deeply engaged in a game of poker which had been in progress all 
night. Money was piled up all around on the table, showing that a 
big game was being played. All looked up when I entered, and I be- 
came at once somewhat embarras-^ed, but only for a moment, for an- 
ger soon drove all thought of bashfulness from my mind. 

" Who the devil are you, and what do you want here," said the 
gruff Captain, full of whiskey. 

" I am Sergeant George H. Holliday, in command of a detachment 
ofthe6th West Virginia Cavalry, from Laramie, ordered to report 
to Colonel Stagg. Is that officer here?" I answered, as coolly as 
possible. 

" Were you ever disciplined, sir?" said the angry Captain, as he 
rose from his seat. 

"Is Colonel Stagg here?" I asked, directing my enquiries to the 
two officers at the table. 

" I say, young man, where did you get your manners ; who drilled 
you, sir?" and the Captain caved around like a caged lion. 

I knew at once what had made him mad, and I was in no humor 
for Goncilliation, and I very ambitiously replied : 

*' A graduate of West Point drilled me, sir — the present Judge Ad- 
vocate of the department of the North Platte, a man who knows more 
discipline, tactics and military law in one minute than you ever will 
know." 

The enraged Captain looked dumfounded — he could not speak, but 
looked at me and then at the other officers. 

** When I entered your quarters, sir, I neglected to remove my hat, 
my only excuse is my embarrassment," said I ; " and out of respect 
for these other officers, I will do so now." 



70 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

'' Shut the door," yelled the Captfiin as with clinched fists he start- 
ed toward me. 

I gave the door a slam, and heard the men who had gathered on 
the outside lautth. 

I noticed the two Californians at the table wink at each other and 
give me what I thought to be an approving look. 

*' I shall report you to your Captain at the earliest opportunity, 
young man," said he as he sank exhausted into his chair. 

"It won't do any good, sir; I happen to be filling the Captain's 
shoes myself. lam commanding my Captain's company, sir. They 
all know me, 'twon't be of any use sir." 

At this the two officers broke out in a suppressed laugh, and the 
young Colonel arose and extended me his hand. 

"I am Colonel Stag," said he. " Sergeant, we'll go out and have 
your horses and men cared for.'' 

And as we passed through the stables where my men were impa- 
tiently waiting, he remarked, " The captain has lost heavily to- 
night, and has drunk too much." 

The men at the post by this time were all up and they soon had us 
a breakfast cooked and our ponies cared for. The colonel left me 
with orders to be ready to move at 7 o'clock. 

At daybreak I telegraphed to Colonel Manidier, at Fort Laramie, 
my safe arrival, and received the following reply: 

" Well done. Proceed to Platte Bridge with Colonel Stag." 

We moved the next morning with a detachment of the California 
Cttvalry, and after three days' march, with the gre^t mountains at 
our left and the North Platte winding thro' the rough barren bluffs 
on our right, we reached Platte Bridge, or Fort Casper, so named in 
honor of Lieutenant Casper Collins, who was killed by the Sioux, 
with twelve of his men, while trying to rescue an emigrant train at- 
tacked by the Indians. He was a son of Colonel Collins, of Ohio, 
and a member of the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry. 

What shall I say of Fort Casper? If I were to attempt to tell of 
all the hardships and privations, and the hundreds of incidents of the 
cold winter which h id now already begun, it would require more 
space than I could expect to be allotted me. Here our regiment 
soon began to collect, for we were to winter here. 

There was at this time a small block-house here occupied by a de- 
tachment of the Second California Cavalry, whom I relieved, and 
some of the Third U. S. Infantry. A Frenchman by the name of 
Gunarde had built a long pine log bridge here at an enormous ex- 
pense, but made a fortune off it the first year. The toll for crossing 
a six-yoke team was only $5, and it had to be paid, for the river could 
not be forded for miles either way. 

The advance portion of our command had all collected here in the 
course of two weeks, under Major Squires, and we set to work at 
once building a blocK-house for our own use. We were late in the 
fall getting at it, and we found the heavy snows of winter upon us 
before we had gotten out of our tents into our log hut. Our logs for 
the building were cut by our men in the mountains seven miles from 
camp, and hauled by an ox train which we had pressed into service, 
our mule train having been turned over, with the exception of half a 
dozen wagons, at Laramie. There was little distinction made here 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 71 

between officers and private^;. All realized alike the necessity of im- 
mediate action, and the officers volunteered to do their part, and 
more, of the hard, hard work, of chopping and hauling logs. 

The teamsters of the ox train had nearly all been discharged and 
sent to Laramie and we had to fill their places. It Was a common 
thing to see a captain or lieutenant with an ox whip at a ''right 
shoulder shift," commanding six yoke of bulls toiling up the moun- 
tain side after a load of pine logs. 

The pioneers were detailed, or rather took their turn, at chopping 
logs while half the force formed a chain guard around them f >r pro- 
tection from the Indians who lurked around in the woods and 
watched for a chance to pick off our men while at work. We were 
compelled to work with our heavy revolvers on and our carbines 
leaning against the nearest treo. The boys had fine fun shooting 
black tailed deer which every now and then came dashing through 
the woods where they were at work. 

About the last of November, when our job was about complete, and 
we began hauling wood for our winter's fuel, a heavy snow fell and 
the road to the mountains became so blocked with drifts that hauling 
for the time being had to be suspended. . 

During the night after the heavy snow a terriffic wind came down 
upon us from the northwest and we knew that our m^n in the moun- 
tains would be snowed under. Their camp was located iri a deep 
canyon under a huge cliff of rocks. They had for shelter nothing but 
pinn brush thrown upon poles, for we had expected to get through 
before the storms of winter set in. 

For several hours during the early part of that awful night those 
men sat under their meagre shelter and tried to keep the fires burn- 
ing, while the snow drifted off the cliffs and filled the canyon to the 
depth of a dozen feet. The heavy snow weighted their shelter down 
and by midnight they found their fires extinguished and themselves 
buried beneath the fast failing snow. Wrapped in blankets, they 
fought the drifting snow with shovels, sticks and brush, piling it up 
all around them as high as they could reach. When day dawned 
and a relief party reached them, they were shoveling and beating a 
path through their prison walls, and it was several hours before they 
could be extricated. This was the beginning of the coldest winter 
ever seen in the Eocky Mountains, as many of the Indians and 
French told us before spring came. 

We were caught without firewood, and our winter's supply of forage 
and rations had not yet arrived from Laramie. 

Our quarters were done, and we had just moved in time to escape. 

The situation was anything but cheering. We had three or four 
hundred ponies and mules to be fed, and the grass had been poor 
during the fall — so poor that but few trains had come through this 
route, hut had preferred the South Platte. During the first few weeks 
after the snow came, there seemed to be a territorial convention of 
coj^otes in vicinity of Platte Bridge. They could be seen at any time 
during the day in plain view of our quarters, and at night such howls 
we never heard before. But did the reader ever see a coyote? T will 
try and give a description of him. 

The coyote is about the size of a yellow dog, and looks like a second 
hand wolf in straightened circumstances. He bears about the same 



72 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

relation to the genuine wolf that the buzzard does to the easjle, or that 
a chicken thief does to a modern t^ank cashier. He has a perpetual 
air of being ashanaed of himself, or of something he has done. 

As you catch a glimpse of him, trotting away from one bluff to an- 
other, looking back over his ears with his tail furled around his left 
leg, he looks as if he was aware that the police had a clew to his 
whereabouts, and were working up his case. 

No one ever saw a fat coyote. You may catch a young one, civil- 
ize him as you can, feed him on canned groceries and put a brass col- 
lar on hina, but his ribs will be his most prominent feature, and at 
the first opportunity he will voluntaril y and ungratefully leave your 
hospitable roof, and from choice become a roving vagabond on the 
plains, living on carrion and sharing his meal with the buzzards. 

These predatory shadows are not at all dangerous. There is no 
fight in them. That a popular fallacy regarding the ferocity of the 
coyote exists was illustrated not long since in the remark made by a 
Norwegian preacher in a sermon he preached not long- after his arri- 
val in the West. He said: 

'* Dear friends, methinks I see two men walking out on one of your 
beautiful prairies. They enjoy the perfume of the beautiful flowers, 
the songs of the innocent birds, the calm quiet beauty of your Indian 
summer evening. Communing together they walk heedless of dan- 
ger. The sun sinks to rest beyond the distant horizon ; the curtain 
of night gradually descends and closes out the light of day ; still the 
men walk leisurely along feeling safe and secure. But hark! What 
sound was that in the distance? What blood-curdling howl makes 
them arrest their steps? It is, dear friends, the cry of the coyote on 
their track. The fierce and bloodthirsty coyote is in hot pursuit. 
And what, think you, do these unfortunate men do? One of them, 
my beloved congregation, realizes his danger, and running to a tree 
climbs, by the aid of a branch, out of reach of the fangs of the relent- 
less beasts of prey. He called unto his companion and said unto him: 
'Ob! my brother, climb up here and be saved!' but the other said: 
No, there is no danger; the wolves are still a great way off— I have 
plenty of time.' Alas ! while he was yet speaking the dreadful coy- 
otes came upon him, and rending him limb from limb, devouring 
him even in the twinkling of an eye. And thus it is, Oh ! careless and 
heedless sinner, that you stand," etc., etc. 

When the preacher concluded the sermon and was leaving the 
church, an old bull-whacker who had been on the plains for many 
years, accosted him and said : 

"Parson, the front end of your sermon was grand and glorious, and 
calculated to biuff the unconverted sinner. You had a iull hand, and 
might have raked in all tiie mourners in the pot, but Lord bless your 
soul you played a nine spot when you chipped in with that coyote 
yarn." 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 73 



CHAPTER IX. 



After the Sioux-Our Winter Costume— Pawnee Scouts— Our Oflacers 
Take a Hand at "Dra-w Poker"— a Lieutenant raises a "Cold Deck" 
and rakes in the entire outfit of his Noble Red Brother— Again 
on the War Path— We strike a fresh trail and run it— Into a Snow- 
drift—Indians burn a Saw Mill at Laramie Peak and kill all hands- 
Three Scouts discover a Dead Warrior and conclude to take an 
Invoice of his personal effects— We make some scientiflcal discov- 
eries and also some personal appropriations- Buffalo, Blacktailed 
Deer, Elk and Grizzly Bear— Running" the Mail. Hauling Wood. 
Intense sufering, Those Vinegar Pies. Tobacco all gone and 
the boys smoke up their rations of Tea and Coffee. We venture 
far into the Mountains after deer. We discover "Jack's Valley" 
and go into camp in the mouth of a Cave. Howell kills a Buck. 
Discovery that we are camped in a Grizzley's Den, &c. 



After the weather hid become somewh-at warmer, and the snow 
had packed and settled, a volunteer force was called to go down the 
North Piatte below Deer Creek Station to look after some Indians 
who had been stealinsr the stock from that post. 

About fifty of us offered at once to go, glad to get away frooa this 
lonely place and anxious for some diversion, even if we had to fight 
a horde of redskins to find it. 

We had been providing ourselves with the customary winter ontfit 
of clothing, which consisted of a wolf skin, or buffilo cap, bufl'alo 
skin overshoes with lezgins attached which reached to the knees 
and then fastened by long buckskin strings was allowed to hang 
down the side of the legs, Buffalo mittens, and the customary cav- 
alry uniform, completed the costume. These "extras" had to be 
furnished by ourselves, and cost considerable. 

Wrapped in the above described outfit, we sat out one cold clear 
morning, over an unbroken road through snowjdrifts, and after a hird 
days march we reached Deer Creek Station. This post was held by 
some of the 11th Ohio Cavalry boys, under a Lieutenant, and a small 
squad of U. S. Infantry. And here we found twenty-five Pawnee 
Indian soldiers who had come over from the Missouri River under a 
white officer, after the mail. The route along the Missouri from 
Yankton had become blocked with snow, and was impassable and 
no mails had gone through for sometime, so the mail was sent over 
the North Platte route. 

After our supper was devoured, as usual, everybody settled down 
to a game of poker, in which all the Indians took a hand. 



74 ON THE PLAINS IN 65. 

All Indians play poker. How they learn and where they get their 
cards has been a mystery. You may tame a wild Indian, educate 
him, convert him to Christianity, make a missionary of him, and 
send him back to his brethren, and before the sun goes down he will 
stake his last broncho on a game of poker. 

There are but few tricks known to the professional gambler which 
the redskin is not perfectly familiar with, and which he will not re- 
sort to when opportunity affords. But a trick was played by one of 
our ofiBcers here which laid everything in the shade these Indians 
had ever seen. 

Four men sat down to a rough^table for a game. A Lieutenant, a 
private, and two Pawnee Indians. A previous arrangement had 
been made to "raise a cold deck" on these fellows, which was suc- 
cessfully done and raised more excitementat that little remote block- 
house than an attack by Indians would have caused. 

The game was a tifty cent "ante" game, with no limit to the bets. 
Everything w^as going on nicely and the two Indians had been al- 
lowed to win largely, quite a crowd of boys had gathered around and 
were watching with intense interest. Finally the time came for ac- 
tion. It was the Lieutenant's deal, the cards were dealt out, and a 
close observer could detect a twinkle of satisfaction in the eyes of 
each of the Indians as they picked up their hands. Of course all 
came in. 

The buck on the left had four Jacks, Ingun n«). 2 had four Queens, 
the private four Kings, and the Lieutenant four aces. All discarded 
one and drew one, except the Leiutenant. Then the betting com- 
menced. First a ten, then doubled, and soon ran up to one hundred 
dollars an! over sized one Indian's pile, but he was not to be bluff- 
ed. Hehada winning hand and he meatit to stake all he possessed on 
it. Two of the men had lain down their hands, and the fight was be- 
tween the Lieutenant and the Indian of the four Jacks. He lacked 
fifty dollars to see the last raise. He pondered long, looked puzzled, 
then said : 

*' Jo Jim got no more money. Put up good pony— fifty dollars ?" 

The kind officer agreed to the pony, and the two hands were 
shown. The Lieutenant had won over a hundred dollars and a pony, 
and the poor red man was busted. 

This wound up the game, and as the unfortunate man arose he 
said: 

"Jo Jim, all broke — no money —no pony — all gone." 

But before we left the next morning the money was all returned 
and the pony restored to the rightful owner, and I suppose there was 
never a happier Indian than Jo Jim, especially when the Lieutenant 
learned him the trick it was done with. 

Several miles below Deer Creek we were surprised at finding a 
fresh trail in the snow leading from the North Platte in the direction 
of Laramie Peak. We decided at once co follow this trail. A close 
examination revealed the fact that the Indians had passed through 
the night previous and could not be many miles in the advance. 

Following as rapidly as the nature of the country and the frequent 
snow drifts would permit, wejourneyed on until afternoon when a se- 
vere snow storm satin and we were compelled to give up the chase, 
and make our way across the plain for La Bonta. We reached it 



ON THE PLAINS IN ^65. 75 

late that night, almost exhausted and several naen badly frozen. 
That nlj^ht the Indians attaclsed a small force of cavalry and some 
Frenchmen at a saw mill near Laramie Peak, killing every man 
there, and burning the mill to the ground. 

We returned the next day to Deer Creek. But I must relate aa 
adventure which three of us had on the way, and in doing so I don't 
want to place my comrades and myself in the light of grave robbers, 
for in that country, and at that time, no such a thing was known, or 
at lea^st it was not known by that name. It was a common thing for 
surgeons to take up the bodies of soldiers and teamsters who died and 
were hurried in shallow graves along the road, and dissect them as 
there was no law to interfere. But our case was somewhat different, 
inasmuch as we were not doctors in search of scientific knowledge, 
but scouts, in search of Indians dead or alive, and as we could find no 
live ones, but did find a dead one, we thought it our duly to know 
just who and what he was. ^Ve bad been sent in advance and order- 
ed to take observations from all the higher bluffs, and if w^ thought 
advisable, to go over on the Platte where the trail led from. There 
were three of us "Pony" Doland, Corporal Hewell and myself. 

We were several miles in advance of our command when we struck 
the fresh trail, and following this we soon reached a large piece of 
timber on the bank of the river. Here we approached cautiously. 
After viewing the surrounding country from a high bluff, we entered 
the woods and at once were surprised to see that the trail came to an 
end, and that the woods were full of tracks. The snow of the night 
before had somewhat covered up the tracks and we knew that no In- 
dians had been there that day. We had scattered through the timber, 
when we heard Doland calling to us: 

" Come quick, I've found an Ingun." 

Instantly we were at his side under a scrub oak, and sure enough 
just above us was a great bundle of elk tepes painted all over the 
outside with pictures of Indian camps, buffalo hunting, painted war- 
riors, etc., all nicely rolled up and securely tied to poles laid from 
limb to limb. 

*' Boys that's a buck, and he's not been dead long, for everything 
is fresh — must have been hung there day before yesterday," remark- 
ed Howell after a short look at the "sleeper." 

"O no, not long, haint been hung more than three days at most. 
What's going to be done, boys?" said Doland looking first at the tree 
and then at us. 

"Go away and let him be, I suppose," I ventured to say, although 
I knew at once that our curiosity would never allow us to leave 
without seeing the contents of that tepe. 

" Boys, it won't do to fool around here too long," said Doland. 
"I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll climb up and cut him down if you 
will unroll him." 

We agreed to his proposition and, in a twinkling he was up the 
tree and cutting the thongs which bound the noble red man to his . 
last resting place. 

This done, he gave him a push with his foot and the great bulk 
came down and striking one of the limbs, lodged for an instant, then 
tilted over and striking the ground with a dull thud stood on his 



76 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

head for aa instant, then toppled over and lay at full length before 
us. 

It was a strange sight and one which caused an involuntary shud- 
der to creep over me. 

*' Light into hina Sarge," said one of the boys. 

" Light in yourself, my knife is too dull." And I began to regret 
I had anything to do with the matter. 

But we were in for it, and we all commenced cutting the thongs 
and soon had a large elkskin tepe peeled off and were down to a 
bran new buffalo robe, this too soon came off and some old blankets 
began to appear. The pile had by this time become greatly reduced 
and began to aesume the shape of an Indian. 

An offensive smell began to issue from the blankets, and we han- 
dled the old rags with a good deal of care. 

Finally, by turning it over a few times we had the blankets off, 
and there was your Indian. He was a large and well formed young 
man audthe paint upon his face had evidently been smeared on af- 
ter death. For the good of science we tried to discover the cause of 
his death, but could discover no wound nor evidences of disease, ai d 
our verdict was that he had probably died of a broken heart. 

He was dressed in a nicely beaded buckskin shirt and leggings, with 
a very ornamented pair of moccassins which Doland envied so much 
that it required much pursuasion to prevent him from appropriating 
them for his own use. Wrapped in a blanker by his side, were all 
his earthly effects. This we explored, and found iherein a short bar- 
relled gun, a bow and quiver full of arrows, a hunting pouch which 
contained avast store of small trinkets. 

A tomahawk pipe was among these, and as I wanted one of these 
instruments of death I seized it at once and thrust it into my belt. 
Several pieces of old silver partially converted into ear rings were 
among the trophies which, as the boys said would not pass current 
in the happy hunting grounds, we pocketed them. 

We had now thoroughly dissected our subject, and concluded to 
do him upand swing him again where we found him. Butafter 
wrapping all the goods around him we found the bundle twice as 
as large as it was before and our thongs would not reach, besides the 
weather had changed and a cold, freezing wind w^as blowing down 
upon us from the northeast and we concluded to postpone the funeral 
until hotter weather. So after swearing eternal secrecy over the 
corpse of our departed friend and brother, we mounted our ponies 
aud retraced our trail to the main road where we overtook the com- 
mand, but said nothing of what we had done. The old hatchet, I 
hurried it a mile from the :scene, in a sand bank, where I suppose it 
still lies in its little grave. This dastardly deed leaked out several 
months afterward. When the Sioux under Standing Elk, surren- 
dered at Laramie, they wanted the unnatural wretches punished, 
but they never found out just who did it, and we never told it until 
we were mustered out at Leavenworth in the summer following. 

We returned to Platte Bridge the next day, through a dense storm. 
This was the last expedition we undertook during the winter. Our 
time was spent in looking after our comfort and keeping ourselves 
in wood and something to eat. No rations had yet arrived and we 
saw that belore the winter would break we would have to depend 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 77 

upoo our own resources for food. The monntains, a few miles dis- 
tant were full of black and wliite tailed deer, elk, persimmon bear and 
buffalo were roaming in the Wind River Valley in large herds, but 
this was one hundred and twenty-five miles distant. If the weather 
would permit, we could come out all right, but if it was extremely 
cold our chances were slim. 

Forsix weeks we lay in ourquarters inactive. Each night brought 
with it the usual game of "freeze out" and every other day a detail 
had to be made go with the extra train to the mountain for wood. No 
matter how cold, the wood must come, and many of the boys bear 
marks to this day of the sufferings endured in tho^se mountains with 
that wood train. 

Then there were the U. S. mails to be run through twice a week 
from Platte Bridge to Deer Creek east, and from Platte Bridge to 
8weet Water Station west. The mail had to go as long as the weath- 
er and condition of the road would permit, and many times the bo>s 
were twenty-five successive hours on the road, wading throuj^h deep 
snow, breaking a pass for their pack mules and ponies, over a dis- 
tance of twenty-five miles which was ustjaily made when the weather 
was good, in four hours. 

Thus matters went on at this post until some time in November 
when the road between Platte Bridge and Fort L.iramie, became 
blocked up with snow and mails had to stop, as did all traveling over 
that part of North Platte route. But there was one duty we had to 
perform — wood we must have or freeze to death, and not a stick 
could be gotten short of the mountains, seven miles distant. 

With our available wagons, enough could be hauled for but three 
days u-!e. The result was that officers and men alike had to turn out 
and "work out their road tax," as the ^oys termed the work of mak- 
ing, a road through snow drifts. We had no fears of hostile Indians ; 
we knew the red man could not live out in such Arctic weather with 
his scanty supply of clothing. 

Our rations were now cut short, and such a thing as vegetables 
were out of the question. The only thing we could get which ap- 
proached vegetable food was vinegar, out of which the boys made 
pies. If our wives could see those pies, now, wouldn't they be 
ashamed of their pastry ? They were flavored with nutmeg, which 
we purchased from the now scanty stock of the French trader at the 
post at twenty-five cent cents each. The crust resembled a piece of 
newly tanned leather and would rival it in elasticity and durability. 
The custard after the pie was backed, looked like warm glue, and 
was just about as sticky. But we ate the pies all the same and in 
our innocence thought they couldn't be beat by the best French cook 
in America. 

About this time another calamity came upon us. The supply of 
tobacco gave out. Had the flour run out, or the pork suddenly dis- 
appeared, and all tbe^e been entirely cut off, the loss would not have 
been felt so much as was the loss of tobacco. Nearly every man in 
camp smoked his pipe, and a large number, of course, chewed. As a 
result, the old smokers took to smoking coffee and tea and wild sage. 
But tea came the nearest filling the vacancy and it was not long be- 
fore our rations of tea was all smoked up. However there were- a few 
chewers in camp who had taken the precaution to supply themselves 



78 ON THE PLAINS IN ^65. 

with the weed at Laramie, but they kept it mig:hty still, and al- 
though they were constautl}^ wat<jhed by the smokers, we could not 
find where they kept it hid. 

It was a common thing for the smokers to keep a constant watch 
on the chewer's mouth, and watch him spit, or detect if possible any 
movement of his jaw, and if at any time a "quid^' was discovered in 
bis mouth to negotiate at once for the second-hand chew. 

It was generally pretty well chewed up before the smoker got pos- 
session of it, but after it was dried before the fire, smoked very well, 
and tasted sweeter than honey to the famished smoker. 

Up to this time none of our men had ventured into the mountains 
very far. In fact they had not time to go, and it was not necessary to 
go over the first r inge of mountains to find deer in abundance. The 
boys had been keeping the camp pretty well supplied with fresh 
venison and antelope, killed within sight of our camp. 

Sergeant Howell and myself talked the matter over one cold morn- 
ing as we stood leaning against the sunny side of the blockhouse and 
looked into the blue sky beyond the snow covered mountains, and 
concluded to organize a small squad and if possible penetrate into the 
mountains, far beyond the first range. We had a longing desire to 
see what kind of a country lay hidden in the dark shadows of those 
mountain's whose peaks we could see looming up away back in the 
southwest. 

Accordini^ly on the next day, with three ponies well packed with 
robes, blankets, ammunition, cooking materials, tents, ax and shovels, 
and a week's rations of flour, salt and cofi"ee, three of us sat out midst 
the hoots and jeers of the boys who made fun of the proposition to 
goon such a hunt. Cooper, Howell and myself, composed the party. 
After plowing throu^ih snow for six or eight hours, we found our- 
selves at the Red Buttes, fivetniies from camp. 

We had been told by the half-breeds at the post that there was a 
pass or a low gap at this point, over which we could take our ponies, 
and several miles beyond was a beautiful valley, where they could 
get sufi&cient grass under the snow to live on. 

Although night was approaching, we determined to try and make 
our way over the pass, and camp in some canyon in the mountains 
overnight. We found the pass comparatitively free from snow, as 
it had blown off the rock into the canyons, and after a few hours hard 
work we found ourselves well into the mountains. 

We had forced our ponies over the rocks and through narrow paths, 
along the edges of dizzy crags, where a slip of the foot would have 
precipitated man or beast down into the unknown depths of yawning 
chasms and we were approaching the western slope of the pass, when 
one of our ponies plunged into a deep snow drift, and it was long af- 
ter dark before we succeeded by aid of our shovels in extricating 
him. The wind had settled and we concluded to camp here until 
daybreak. These mountains were covered with great, stately pines, 
with but little under brush, and we soon had a warm fire of pine 
knots, over which we made coffee, slap-jacks and delicious gravy 
from the grease of a piece of fat "sow belly." Then to add to these 
luxuries, "Doc." Cooper had brought with him a large plug of tobac- 
co which he had succeeded in saving for a long time, and soothed 
our brains with an old pipe—a "vet" of the late rebellion. There 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 79 

was no sleep that night, for a pack of hunojry gray wolves set up a 
howl in which all other wild beasts of the mountains joined, or at 
least it so appeared to us. 

With the approach of day they fled, and we took up our line of 
march throus^jh the mountains. About noon of the second day we 
came in sight of the valley, and oh! such a spot. From our Iryfty 
view it resembled a large lake nestled away down at the foot of the 
grand mountains which entirely surrounded it. It was nearly round, 
and the dis tance across either "way was not less than a mile. There 
was not a stick of timber to be seen on it, and its surface was as level 
as a floor. What a spot of beauty this must have been in spring and 
summertime. Tall dead grass stood high above the snow — taller 
than our ponies' backs, which must have been beautiful when clothed 
in green. 

We decided at once to descend into the valley, and in the course of 
an hour we found the mouth of a canyon just at the edge of 
this beautiful plain where we concluded to go into camp. Great 
loose boulders lay thick in the deep gulch around which we wound 
our way for a few yards, when we came to the mouth of a cave. Here 
we found evidences of an old camp, and we congratulated ourselves 
upon our good fortune. Howell confessed at once that he did not 
like the looks of the "hole in the hill," and we thought we could 
trace out huge tracks partially covered by recent snows, t>ut we ban- 
ished all thoughts of grizzly bears from our mind and settled down to 
business at once. 

Our ponies were soon rooting down into the snow and would fetch 
up tufts of rich green grass which they ate with a relish. 

After getting settled, the snow cleared away, the tents stretched 
over some poles laid across the rock, and everything as comfortable 
as possible, Howell took his carbine and wandered off along the edge 
of the timber, and he had scarcely disappeared from view when we 
heard the crack of his gun and saw a herd of black tailed deer 
bounding away across the plain leaping high over the tall grass. With 
guns in hand we ran to Howell and found him *Mocked horns" with 
a large wounded buck. He had thrown down his gun, supposing his 
game to be dead, and with knife in hand he rushed' up to stick him, 
but the buck rallied and Howell found him to be the liveliest corpse 
he ever saw. Howell had been forced into the brush and among the 
rocks and the buck could not force his broad horns where his enemy 
could crawl. His hind legs were broken, and Howell had given him 
several thrusts with his long knife, but still he fought, and the mo- 
ment we appeared he left Howell and made a bold dash at us. He 
could only drag his hinder parts and we could easily get out of his 
way, and so we gave him a ball which ended the matter. 

He was the largest deer we had yet seen, and a few moments after 
he became stifl we stood him up beside one of our ponies— the small- 
est one — and he lacked but little of being as high as the pony. This 
was encouraging, and we lit our pipes and manifested our satisfaction 
by smoking until late in the night. 

Our ponies had been allowed to roam about the place at will 
through the day, and we tied them in the mouth of the cave that 
night. 



80 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

Before dark we discovered the following words cut in rude letters, 
deep in the b-^rk of a tree: 

''Jack'?? Valley. Discovered by Trapper Jack, in 1850." 

We concluded that for our better protection we would take turns 
at standing: guard. We had all stood our time, and Cooper was oti 
watch, when about 3 o'clock in the uaorning he gave us a shake and 
in a hoarse, hurried whisper said : 

"Boys! Boys! Get your guns quick. There's something in this 
cave." 

In an instant we were on our feet with cocked carbines, 

" What did it sound like?" we asked, excitedly. 

"Sound like! Great goodness; didn't you hear it? Why a dead 
man could have heard that. I tell you there's Indians, bears, lions, 
or a gang of wolves in that hole." 

For a long time we sat watching, waiting in silence for some mon- 
ster to thunder from the mouth of that cavern, and once, while ev- 
erything was quiet as the grave save the rustle of the leaves in the 
tree-tops, we thouirht we could detect a low growling sound away 
back in the bowels of the mountain, and we all involuntarily whis- 
pered in concert: 

-'There! listen! hear that?" 

This broke the silence which had become painful, and we drew to- 
gether around the fire, which we replenished by throwing on some 
pine knots. Our ponies too, seemed to be alarmed, for they pricked 
up their ears and moved in a way that gave us to understand that 
there was more than imagination in the alarm. Until day-break we 
sat with our guns in hand, and only laid them aside when we could 
see plainly into the opening of the cave. 

After a hearty breakfast of venison, we left Cooper to watch the 
camp with the understanding that should we be wanted at camp he 
would fire two shots in rapid succession. Taking difl*erent direc- 
tions we ascended the mountain, and I had gone but half a mile from 
camp when I saw a deer lying down in some bushes. Dropping 
flat in the snow I lay quietly for a moment, then I raised my gun and 
peering along its barrel I saw the deer had arisen and \ms standing 
broadside toward me. Aiming low I fired, and with a bound the 
deer sprang forward and fell dead. I soon had her entrails out, and 
tying her legs together I shouldered her up and started to retrace my 
steps. 

I had gone but a few steps when bang! bang! came the report of 
two shots in rapid succession. They were not just in the direction of 
the camp, nnd I stopped short and listened for a moment. Then 
bending under my load I hastened forward, and soon again came the 
report of two more shots, this time farther up the mountain, and I 
was at a loss to understand their meaning. Turning in the direction 
of the sound, I made all haste possible, and was surprised at coming 
all at once upon my two comrades well up the mountain side, with 
three ponies all packed with our entire camp fixtures, and anxiously 
waiting for me to turn up. 
"Why, what's up, boys?" I asked in surprise. 
"Grizzlys! we've been camping with grizzlys. I wouldn't stay 
there another hour for all the deer in'^the mountains. Why, you 
had not been gone ten minutes before there began the darndest roar 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 81 

and growling I ever heard, and I went right to work packing the 
ponies and clearing out the camp, and I tell you I think I did mighty 
well to get out of that hollow as well as I did." 

I felt vexed and tried to remonstrate with Cooper, and intimated 
that he was a coward, but when he went on and told how he saw 
*'h!S eyes shine back in the cave," and how frantic the ponies became, 
I soon sided with them, and we concluded to return at once to the 
fort and let deer hunting alone. 

We had two deer, one very large and the other a small one, and 
after tying my doe on one of the ponies, we started for camp, where 
we arrived late that night and entertained the boys with a narrative 
of our experience and a description of the country until long after 
midnight, and many were the resolutions formed to go there as soon 
as the weather would permit and "clean out that den of bears," but 
I will add just here that they never went, for when they heard some- 
time after that a grizzly had been killed near Laramie Peak that 
weighed 1,400 pounds, and that one of the Eleventh Ohio Cavalry 
boys lost his life in the fight, and another had his bowels ripped out, 
they got out of the notion of going, and concluded they didn't want 
any bear meat anyhow. 

This proved to be a valuable trip after all, for not long after this we 
got out of forage, and had it not been for the discovery of 'Jack's 
Valley" our ponies would all have died before spring. But in Jan- 
uary they were all driven over the mountain, and the April follow- 
ing we found them still there, much improved in flesh and appear- 
ance. 

How many times since have 1 thought of that beautiful valley and 
wished that I might again climb over those mountain crags, and 
spend a month there secluded from the care of the busy world. 



CHAPTER X. 



Buffalo Hunt in the Wind River Valley. We are joined at Three 
Crossings by the 11th Ohio boys. How we made the trip. Ex- 
treme suffering". After a day and night out we sight Sweet Water 
Station where the 3rd U. S. Infantry and a Company of 11th Ohio 
take us in "out of the cold." In sight of the Black Hills, Lara- 
mie, Plains, and Wind River Valley. A grand scene. The chase. 
We kill four Bulls, and are chased by Snake Indians. Camp on 
the field. The mules eat up the wagon tongue and leave our old 
ship without a helm., Return to Platte Bridge and find the Scur- 
vey in camp. Some of our Comrades already dead. The coldest 
day on the Indians record. Several men badly frozen. We are 
snowed in for six weeks. No communication with the outside 
world for that period. Freezing to death, and how it feels. 
Communication restored. Great excitement in camp. Wolves 
dig up our dead comrades. Ordered to Fort Laramie, "Stand- 
ing Elk" surrenders with all his followers. His speech in full. We 
camp in their midst to hold them level, etc. 



About the first of December our officers received a telegram from 
the officer in command at Three Crossing, one hundred and twenty 



82 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

miles farther west, stating that buffalo were plentiful there and ask- 
ing theni to come up and join them in a grand hunt. The tempta- 
tion was too much to withstand, and, notwithstanding the extreme 
cold and bad condition of the trail, a party was organized, and, the 
writer, although not a commissioned officer, received a polite invita- 
tion to accompany them. Of course he assented for he was deter- 
mined to see all there was in it, and not allow one in that camp to go 
farther than he did. Oould we have known of half the suffering and 
trouble of the long journey before us, we would not have thought 
once of undertaking such a wild goose chase. 

But we did not know, and one cold morning found a dozen officers 
and men mounted on the be^t ponies in the camp and with a four 
mule wagon and all the necessaries for a hunt, we left Fort Casper 
amidst the protests of our comrades who maintained that we would 
find the roads impassable, and that we would all freeze to death on 
the way. 

Our party consisted ofCapt. M.Donahoe, Lieutenant Krouse, Lieut. 
Miller, Lieut. H. W. Brazie, "Scout" Purdy, "Buze" Lindsey, our 
innocent friend Flinn, and the writer, besides others whose names I 
have forgotten. 

We found the trail barely passable and only rendered so in many 
places by the use of our shovels. 

The next station beyond Casper, as I stated, is fifty miles distant. 
The road was not a bad one in the summer time. It ran parallel 
with the chain of mountains known there as Snowy Range. There 
is not a stick of wood on the way except along the foot-hills of the 
mountains several miles distant from the road. 

We toiled along ail day, walking and riding, any way to keep from 
freezing and make the best time, and when night came we had made 
half the distance to Sweet Water. We had some pine wood in our 
wagon, and with this we built a fire in a gulch and went into camp 
for the night. Our suppers over, we lay down and tried to sleep, 
but found that the pile of robes and blankets we had with us w^ere 
insufficient, and our little stock of wood soon gave out and the fire 
was reduced to a mere handful of embers around which we huddled 
covered with blankets. There was but little wind, but the night was 
surely the coldest we had ever seen. 

At 10 o'clock the last spark of fire was gone, we were all crouched 
together in one shivering mass and our ponies and mules, although 
heavily blanketed, shook like aspen leaves. The situation was a des- 
perate one, and something must be done. 

It was decided at once that we must move, and that quickly. Id 
ten minutes we were struggling on again leading our ponies through 
snow which screeched, and groaned under the wheels of our wagon, 
which added a gloom to the situation. I think there was not a man 
in that squad but regretted that he had undertaken the trip. But we 
pushed onand at day light we sighted the little blockhouse standing 
alone on a barren bluff just before us. 

It was like a sail to shipwrecked sailors, and we raised a glad shout 
which aroused the men at the Post who came out and expressed 
joy and surprise in various ways. They had seen ho new faces for 
several weeks. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 83 

We remained here all day and night and were joined next day by 
two men from this Post. 

The remainder of our march was made with comparative ease, as 
we found plenty of fire wood for fires, and we camped often. 

The Devil seems to have had dominion over this country at one 
time. At least so the names of difi'erent curiosities along the route in- 
dicate. 

There is the "Devil's Backbone," a long ridge of ragged rocks, re- 
sembling the fins of a large fish. Then the "Devil's Gap" a deep cut 
through the mountains of rocks* The "Devil'slPuIpit," which is a pile 
of rocks standing alone on top of a bluff, resembling exactly an old 
fashioned pulpit. 

We reached Three Crossing Station after several days march, and a 
vast deal of suffering from cold and fatigue. Here we found a com- 
pany of the 11th Ohio Cavalry, comfortably fixed in their substan- 
tial blockhouse. They were living on jerked buffalo meat, and all 
seemed to be in good health. We saw evidences everywhere of 
plenty of this kind of game^ and our anxiety for the onslaught be- 
came unbounded. 

The next day, after our arrival, the hunt was organized and we 
started for the field of action, "Johny Rubb," a Cincinnati boy of 
the 11th Ohio Cavalry, a successful boy in the chase, was elected Cap- 
tain of the expedition. Our wagon accompanied us to bring in the 
meat. 

We had been told by our young Captain that when we struck the 
herd two men must select a bison and stick to him 'til we had 
got him down, that when wounded he wouid leave the herd and 
then we must ride.onto hira and use our revolver as effectually as 
possible. But there was one thing he forgot to tell us and that was 
that the bull would dodge from right to left and occasionally stop 
short and so would the pony and that we would likely go on — heels 
over head for some distance. But if Johnny forgot to tell us, we 
learned it from sad experience that day. The day was not so intense- 
ly cold as the few days preceeding, and we had gone but six or eight 
miles when we came to a bluff overlooking the Laramie Plains and 
the Wind River Valley. The scene was grand, but we only had a 
second to enjoy it, and had just sighted a herd of perhaps 8,000 buffa- 
lo moving like a cloud from the direction of Wind River, hotly pur- 
sued by a party of Snake Indians who lived along this valley, when 
just below us, not more than two hundred yards, we suddenly dis- 
covered a small herd of young bulls lying down. 

"Go," said Rubb, in alow and distinct tone, and we went. So did 
the bulls. Pell mell, over bluffs, down into canyons and across the 
wide bottoms, through tall sage brush. Nov/ we were onto them — 
bang! bang!— on we plunged wildly and madly, not heeding the 
holes made by the prairie dogs, or the deep chasms, over which our 
nimble ponies leaped, but on, right up side-by-side with the great 
clumsy creature who gets over ground fnster than one would suppose 
— then we plunge into a great snow drift, and the mad, frightened 
herd struggle out and scatter in different directions. Look back over 
the route over which we came. Just behind us lies a huge dark 
monster struggling in the agonies of death, beside him, with a knife 
in one hand and a bridle rein in the other, stands a soldier with his 



84 ON THE PLAINW IN '65. 

panting pony, who seeoas to know that he has done his work well 
and that his object is acconaplished. Then away yonder are two 
men closely pursuing a wounded bull. We see the smoke of their 
revolvers at every discharge, but cannot hear the report. Now he 
stops — only for an instant, then plunges wildly forward and falls 
dead. The two men dismount and with a long butcher knife finish 
their work. Two of this herd had been cutotfand were pursued in 
the direction of Wind River. 

The chase of the herd lasted only a few minutes, in that time we 
succeeded in cutting out four young bulls, all of which we killed. 

This ended the chase proper, for that day, for we wauld have had 
many miles to travel in order to find the remainder of that herd. 

I had joined two of the 11th boys early in the pursuit in a wild run 
in pursuit of a large biill whom we had wounded at the first fire. He 
took off in the direction of WindfRiver and we pursued him close for 
four miles through deep snow and wild sage, never out of range and 
most of the time within a few feet of him, and yet he succeeded in 
getting that distance before we brought him down. 

Finally he became exhausted from loss of blood, and came to a dead 
halt on top of a bluff in plain sight of an Indian camp on the river a 
few miles distant. He then was of course thoroughly aroused and 
angry, and we did not dare to approach him, but stood off and pep- 
pered him with our Remmingtons until he dropped on his knees, 
opened his mouth and vomited several gallons of blood, then fell 
heavily forward, and we knew the jig was up. 

The Snake Indians who lived on Wind River, were on terms of 
peace with the whites, but they were considered as dangerous, and 
a good many men had disappeared while hunting here, who could 
never be accounted for, and there was no doubt but that these treach- 
erous Indians had killed them. We had been warned not to ap- 
proach their camp, or hunt buffalo within sight of their villages, as 
they always became enraged whec^ this was done, and it was a viola- 
tion of the treaty that was made some years ago. 

We were now scattered over a radious of twenty miles, and our 
game of course could not all be gathered up by our wagon on that 
day. 

We concluded to donate our prize to the Indians, and our resolu- 
tion received a new strength as we saw a band of them leave their 
tepesand start toward us as fast as their old ponies could move. 

We didn't stop to make a presentation speech, or stand for a mo- 
ment on ceremony, but mounted our bronchos and struck out in the 
direction of camp on a double quick. 

On the way we met our team with Flinn as escort. So I struck out 
with the wagon in the direction taken by the herd in their flight, 
while the two comrades of the 11th Ohio Cavalry struck for camp. 
We soon came in sight of a small squad of our men who were skin- 
inga buffalo, and in a short time after we had the hind quarters, hump 
and tongue, and a few other choice pieces, loaded into our wagon and 
were on our way over the plains to where another victim lay with 
his hide peeled off. 

There was only one man with this one, the others having gone in 
pursuit of a straggling bison which had run past them while they 
were at work. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 85 

There were now four of us. The other meu of our party had all 
gfone to the camp aud we were left with the team to get to camp as 
best we could. 

Night was fast approaching, and we judged that we must be eight 
miles from the station. We saw now that it would be our late to 
camp where we were, over night, as it would not be possible to find 
the way back through snow drifts over a strange country. . 

We were well provided with "jerk" buflfalo meat, which we had 
been eatiug all day, our poor old ponies and mules had not a bite nor 
had we anything to give them now. 

We were near a thicket of wild sage, the stalRs of which grew as 
large as a man's arm. 

Out of these we made a ftre and boiled our coffee, The four mules 
were hitched to the wagon tongue near the doubletrees. On top of a 
pile of sage brush under the wagon, in our robes and blankets we 
crawled and were soon comfortably sound asleep, nor did we awake 
until the sun had peeped over the bluffs in the east. 

Flinn was the first man up. Then we were awakened by his 
yells. 

*'Boys, boys, the mother of saints, the mules have swallowed the 
wagon tongue and deserted the camp intirely." 

We all crawled out at once, and sure enough the mules were gone 
and nowhere insight. 

"I'll wager me government pony that the ^esky Schnakes over 
beyant, have the mules at this minute in their bloody camp," said 
Flinn, now terribly excited. 

"But see here, what would the Indians want with the wagon 
tongue?" said one of the boys thinking that he had exploded Fliun's 
theory. 

" Why shure and isn't the tongue hickory? an' don't the pesky 
skunks make war clubs an' bows an' arrows of hickory? It's a 
bloody wonder they did not lug off the whole of the wagon, sure," 
replied the Irishman, as he started to a bluff to see what observations 
he could make. 

But we had seen mules eat up wagons in the army m the east, and 
a close examination revealed the fact that they had gnawed the 
tongue off during the night and had wagged off with it. 

Flinn soon called to us that he could see our team a short distance 
off. We soon had them back at our camp. But how to fix the wagon 
tongue was the rub. 

We . went at it, however, and by heating the king-bolt in a sage 
wood fire fanned into a white heat with our hats and caps we suc- 
ceeded in making a hole through the broken parts into which we 
drove a pin made from one end of an ax handle, then wrapped with 
a buffalo rope, and we soon moved all right in the direction of camp, 
which we reached that forenoon, where we found the ofl^cers and 
men anxiously awaiting our arrival. The next day we had a success- 
ful hunt, in which we all joined. In this hunt Lieut. Myers was 
thrown from his pony over an embankment fully thirty feet, and 
would have been killed had he not fallen into a snow drift. He was 
in hot pursuit of a bull which ran out along a ridge to the embank- 
ment where he (the bull) suddenly dodged to one side and the Lieu- 
tenant's pony stopping short, plunged his rider head first and plant- 



86 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

ed him wrong side up in the snow drift. Ail the officers succeeded 
in killinjj: several fine bulls each, during the week we hunted at 
this place, and we went back to Platte Bridge feeling well satisfied 
Willi our experience. 

It is a liard matter to liill a cow or a calf, as the bulls protect them 
by keeping them well in front when being pursued. Nobody ever 
saw a buffalo cow on picket, and its generally the pickets who get 
killed. The robe of a cow is much more valuable than that of a bull, 
hut cow robes are rarely ever seen in our livery stable-^, or even in 
the markets. But I can't devote any more time to buffalo hunting. 
Suffice to say that we spent a week here and killed many more buf- 
falo than we wanted, and only loaded our wagon with hind quarters 
and hump. We returned to Platte Bridge after being gone nearly 
three weeks. The trip was a hard one, but we had an abundance of 
fun and an experience which none of us would eare to part with. 

On our return to Casper we found the scurvy had broken out among 
the boys to an alarming extent, and some of them had already died. 
The lack of vegetables was the cause, and our surgeon feared that tlie 
dreaded disease would spread and that death might claiuj all the 
camp for its victims before spring, if we could not obtain a fruit diet 
of some kind. 

The weather had now^ become fearful, and our supply of forage was 
about exhausted. 

Major inquires now determined to send our herd of ponies over in 
"Jack's Valley," only retaining enough to do necessary work at the 
post. 

It was now the latter part of Deceaiber and we were in a bad condi- 
tion. A good many men sick with scurvj?', rations short, wood 
scarce, mules and ponies freezing to death every night, and the wea- 
ther so intensefy cold that it was next to impossible to get to the 
mountain-^ and back alive. 

We awoiie one morning and found some of our horses piled up in 
our door, all stiff. The nijtiht had been the coldest of the winter, and 
the poor freezmg brutes had sought the eastern side of the buildings 
lor protection from the cold winds of the northwest. 

*'God pity the poor men who have to so to the mountains this 
morning," said our kind-hearted Captain Donahoe as he opened his 
door and saw the drifting snow and felt the frost sting his smooth 
shaved lace. 

"I would rather see the wagons burned for fuel than to see men risk 
their lives out in such weather as this," he continued. But the wood- 
pile was low and of course we must have fires. 

He had hardly done speaking when an order for a sergeant and sev- 
eral men came from headquarters, and an hour later a squad of fifteen 
men with shovels and axes were huddled around the cook-stove, in 
the adjutant's shanty, awaiting the teamsters. But four wagons 
could be rigged up this morning, and the teams, which consisted of 
mules and horses, presented a sorry aspect indeed. 

We were wrapped in all our heavy clothing of wool, robes and 
skins, and none of us doubted that alter a brisk walk of a mile, 
we would make the trip all right. As we passed over the road 
we hastily shoveled the drifts to one side to make the way passable 
for the wagons, and bv eleven o'clock we had reached the mountains, 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 



87 



a distance of seven miles from camp, where we soon had warm tires 
burning, around which we sat until the teams came up. None knew 
how hard we worked, until after resting for a while, and attempting 
to rise we found ourselves stiff and sore, and scarcely able to walk. 

But no time must be lost, and we went at it and soon had our 
wagons loaded and were on our way to camp. My boots were nearly 
worn out and the buffalo overshoes and leo:gins which I had on were 
not much better. I did not know tn-at while standing around that 
fire the snow had melted and soaked throuj^h and was absorbed by 
my heavy woolen socks, and not until after walking and running a 
mile or so did I realize that my feet were freezing. 

If such a thing was possible the cold had increased, and now we 
were compelled to face the north wind and drifting snow which 
swept off the bluffs in blinding showers, completely hiding us from 
each other. The road from the mountain followed a canyon to the 
Platte Valley in a northern direction, and then up the valley to the 
west. 

While descending this canyon, a thought occurred to me that a 
mile might be saved by taking a near cut across the low bluffs. No 
quicker thought of than I turned from the road and struck out on my 
own hook, thinking that I would surprise the boys by being in camp 
when they arrived. 




Fort Casper. 

This came near being a short cut to the other world. I had gone 
but a short distance when I found myself struggling waist deep in a 
snow bank. But I fought my way through, and after a 'few hundred 
yards of good walking I again broke through the thick crust, and 
this time I began to realize that my situation was a critical one. 

A long time I struggled, occasionally stopping to rest, then again 
renewed my efforts with that desperation which the thought of death 
inspires, and finally, almost exhausted, I again stood on solid footing. 

Looking away down in the valley I could see the four wagons with 
my comrades movlDg slowly along, and a few miles beyond them 



88 ON THE PLAmS IN '65. 

the little block-house with smoke curling up from its chimney, and 
such feelingrs that crept over me. Would I ever again see my com- 
rades there? Why did I not follow those wagons? Then the thought 
of my home in the East, and the loved ones there, passed before my 
mind. I wondered if they would ever know my fate. Then I lifted 
my heart to God tor deliverance — the first prayer I had uttered for 
years, and I felt at once that the God whom my mother had wor- 
shipped, the God whose cause my venerable father had all his life 
proclaimed, would certainly hear my prayer, and I seemed to take 
new courage and hope. 

I had been pushing rapidly along, keeping pace with my thoughts. 
The stinging sensation in my feet had ceased and there was no suffer- 
ing there. 

I now came upon a blufi' overlooking the road scarcely half a mile 
distant, and the block-house was in plain sight, but two miles dis- 
tant. I saw the wagons halt there, and the men enter the doors of 
their comforrable quarters. I now concluded to rest for a moment, 
and sank down into a soft pile of snow. The sensation that passed 
over me here was delightful. I never had been so comfortable before 
in all my life. Everything was happiness, and visions and beautiful 
scenes flitted before my mind in rapid succession, and I saw my fa- 
ther, mother, si^^ters and brothers, all at home, kneeling around the 
family altar. How long I sat here I do not know, but I was sud- 
denly aroused by something, I could not tell what. I started and 
looked wildly around, evidently expecting to see some one standing 
over me, for I thought I had heard a voice. All at once the awful 
fact dawned upon me. I was freezing to death! 

With a mighty effort I arose and attempted to walk. A chill shot 
through my frame like a flash and I came near falling to the ground. 
But I was now thoroughly awake to my dreadful condition, and I 
began to jump and attempted to run, and in my desperation I threw 
my arms about my. body. I now came to a spot where the snow 
had entirely drifted off, leaving the ground clear. I now stopped 
here, and was surprised by the feeling caused by my feet coming in 
contact with the solid ground. There was no perceptible feeling in 
my feet at all. From my knees down, both legs and feet seemed to 
be surplus, dead weights, and as they struck the ground they would 
come down like wooden feet and legs. I now fully realized my con- 
dition and knew that I was badly frozen, and that everything de- 
pended on myownexhertion. I walked, rolled, and tumbled down 
the hill, and when I reached the road I found that I was becommg 
deathly sick. 

I was soon met by some men who had come to help me in. The 
men at the camp had snow-water melted, turpentine ready, and the 
minute I arrived they ripped leggins, boots and socks, from top to 
toe, and peeled them off, and my feet, which were badly frozen, were 
put to soak in two large camp kettles of water. And oh, the pain I 
experienced after the frost came out of those feet. Tongue cannot 
describe it. For six long weeks I laid in my bunk or hobbled on 
crutches, and did not have to haul any more wood that winter. But 
I was not the only one frozen that day. Several other men had their 
feet, ears, fingers and toes, badly frosted, from which they were laid 
up some time, and I may say in my own case now, after a lapse of 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 89 

seventeen years, I still suffer frona the effects of that freezing. 

I have stated that the scurvy had made its way into our camp, 
and that several men had already fallen victims to it: This was a 
strangle disease to us and one which gave our youngSurgeon no little 
uneasiness, for he had not the renaediesat hand necessary to apply to 
it, and the diet upon which we were compelled to live, was only cal- 
culated to aggravate the disease. 

Almost any kind of fruit, especially dried apple, would prevent it, 
and in many cases cures the scurvy. It first made its appearance on 
the gums which became inflamed and very tender. Then it would 
go through the entire system, the blood would become black, and 
the limbs would draw and become rigid and stiff. Great black spots 
appeared over the body and the victim would soon die. 

This disease held on, and many were afflicted with it until March 
'66, when we succeeded in getting some wagons through from Lara- 
mie with vegetables and dried fruits, and thescurvy soon disappeared, 
but not until it had left a number of our boys in their graves and 
many more as cripples for life. 

I remember that we buried two men one day, and the next morn- 
ing we gathered up their bones stripped of flesh ; some of them half 
a mile from the grave. The wolves had dug them up during the 
night. 

From December to the latter part of March we managed to subsist 
somehow, but these four months formed the darkest period of our 
lives. 

The latter part of Februarp found the telegraph line down at both 
ends, and for four weeks we were cut off from the outside world, as 
much so as if we were completely frozen up in iceburgs in the region 
of the North pole. About the 28th of March, while the operator and 
two officers sat in the telegraph office engaged in a game of cards, the 
instrument all at once gave several distinct ticks, and the men 
sprang to their feet as if another kind of a battery had opened upon 
them. 

The news spread like a flash through the camp, and in a few mo- 
ments the most anxious and excited crowd ever gathered together 
were assembled in the old log office. I doubt much if the first tele- 
gram ever flashed over the wires caused more excitement than did 
the first message received by this forlorn and dejected band of sol- 
diers. 

It announced that "1,500 Sioux Indians had just surrendered at 
Fort Laramie," and the best of all ordered our regiment to march 
to that post at the earliest possible moment. 

The lame and the halt leaped for joy. The boys threw up their 
caps, (those that had any) and everybody joined in the demonstra- 
tion of joy which followed. But we had to wait until the 3rd day of 
April before the weather would permit us to leave. It seemed to 
have a grip on the place and it held on until the last, but the time 
came and everything having been made ready, our mules and 
ponies we found in that paradise, "Jack's Valley," all right. The 
hair had grown out long and looked wooly, but they had greatly im- 
proved and we were agreeably surprised to find that but few of them 
were lost. About the first of April the sun, for the first time in many 
weeks, made its appearance and indicated that the cold winter was 



90 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

over. All the forage about the camp was loaded oo the wagons, and 
on the third day of April, through a blinding snow storno, we took up 
our march, leaving the little squad of Infantry to take care of the 
post. The weather, although the snow continued to fall for several 
days, was not disagreeably cold, and although we were compelled 
to break a road which had not been traveled for several months, we 
made good time, and in the course of a week we arrived at Fort Lar- 
amie. Our poor darkey. Oil, had been severely afflicted with scur- 
vy and we had to lift him in and out of the wagon. He was drawn 
up into a ball, and could have been rolled around over the ground 
without straightening a joint or causing a muscle to relax. 

Sure eneugh here we found all the bloody Sioux of the neighbor- 
hood of the Laramie and North Platte rivers. 

The cold had starved and frozen them out, and they had collected 
together within fifty miles of Laramie, and then marched to that place 
and surrendered. It was about the first of March, when on crawling 
out of their quarters the troops at Laramie were considerably surprised 
at seeing a white blanket flying at the top of a pole on one of the 
neighboring bluffs, and around it a dozen sorry looking Indians of 
both sex. A detachment of cavalry was sent out to see who they 
were and what they wanted, and soon returned bringing them to 
camp. 

"Standing Elk " headed the list of chiefs and was in command. 
They were taken to the commander's office where a council was held, 
and each one made a speech. "Standing Elk" made the opening 
address, which was about as follows: 

"I come many miles to make peace with my white brother. We 
have suffered much. The white man has dogged my tracks for 
maay moons. The white man has slain my young men and outraged 
my spuaws, my ponies are the white soldier's war horses. He 
rides them to battle with my warriors. The white men fight well, 
they are brave, but the red men can't live without meat. The white 
soldier has killed all his buffalo, antelope and deer. None are left for 
us to kill. To show the white brother we want peace, I have brought 
all my people with me, and many of my old women and little 
papooses have frozen to death on the way. 

" Last Fall the white soldier pulled down our dead from their iast 
resting place, and robbed them of all their goods, and left their bodies 
food for wolves. This alone excited my young men and called for 
revenge, but we want peace now, and as for the train we captured 
last summer we will return to the white trader as many of his mules 
and ponies as we have left, but for the men we killed with that train 
they are gone — we cannot bring them back, but will mourn with 
their friends. 

"My people are on Raw Hide creek, I want the soldiers to bring 
them in. They are starving." 

" Standing Elk " sat down, and each of the other minor chiefs 
spoke, but had to have an interpreter. "Elk" spoke pretty good Eng- 
lish and I believe could sign his name and read a little. 

Colonel Manidier was deeply affected, and a treaty was drawn up 
and duly signed. Then a company of cavalry went over and marched 
the whole fifteen hundred of them in. 

There nevtr was such a sorry sight before. Every preparation was 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 91 

made for their reception while the company was gone. Meat and 
beans were cooked by the ton, coffee made by the barrel, and cooked 
with wood hauled ninety miles. Blankets and other clothing was 
dragged from the quartermaster department, where we had been in- 
formed that not a particle of clothing remained, and when the In- 
dians arrived in the evening they found a grand feast awaiting them. 
"Grub" was never stored away faster than at that grand supper on 
the parade grounds at Laramie. 

They gave up their fire arms, but'were allowed to retain their bows 
and arrows. All the stolen stock in their possession was turned over 
to the Government, and they went intt) camp along the two streanas 
mentioned. 

The military force at Laramie was not very strong, and great fears 
were entertained that the Indians might be tempted by the weakness 
of the garrison and the valuable property which could ^e captured to 
prove treacherous and violate their treaty as they had done many 
limes before. Our arrival relieved the commandant of further fears, 
and we were put to camp on the Platte, right in the heart of the In- 
dian camp to hold them level. 

All went well for a week. Nothing happened to mar the peace of 
either the white or red naen. We had been trading together, and in 
many instances became personally acquainted with our late foe. An 
agency had been established a few miles down the creek where 
"Standing Elk" and his five hundred young warriors — his body 
guard— camped. Four of us mounted our ponies one day and con- 
cluded to go down there and see ''the boys." The party consisted of 
Lieutenants Krouse and Brazie, Bunton and myself. 

All would have doubtless went well had we not stopped at the 
''Five Mile Branch." But we tarried there too long, and Bunton 
took too much "Bed Jacket." This "Bed Jacket" got us into trou- 
ble with the redskins, and we made a narrow escape. 

I wish I could describe the scene in this ranch. It was a long log: 
house with dirt roof. Inside were eight gambling tables around 
which were seated rough men of all nations, all engaged in playing 
poker, or standing along the bar where five bar keepers were kept 
constantly at work. 

" Who is that young, good looking, man at that end of the table — 
the one in the fancy buckskin shirt," we asked of a "clerk." 

*'That is 'Green River,' and the man at the same table is 'Old Brig- 
get the Trapper.' "Greeny' has won $4,000 off of 'Brig,' and he is 
trying to rake it back, but he won't make it. There ain't a man in 
these parts as ken wax it to that road agent." 

On each table are large piles of money. Greenbacks, gold and sil- 
ver coin, nuggets and dust, and revolvers and bowie knives form a 
conspicuous feature in the games. 



92 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 



CHAPTER XI. 



We Call on Standing Elk-And Get Into Trouble— Too Much "Red Jack- 
et"— Bunton has a Little Unpleasantness with a Red Brother which 
Bring-s Down all the Horde Upon Us— We Escape by Running- the 
Gauntlet— We are Ordered to "The States"— Flinn Takes in Two 
"Stags" and is Himself Taken In— He Paints His Captured Stock 
In Water Colors— But the Indian "Waters the Stock" and it Won't 
Stand the Wash— Down the Republican River— Again at Fort Leav- 
enworth— Mustered Out— Reception at Wheeling— Grand Finale— 
The Tail. 



We mounted our ponies 'and left the ranche mentioned in the last 
chapter, and struck out for the "Standing Elk Agency." Bunton was 
pretty full and ready for any emergency, and at the Indian camp he 
found it. 

We found the ford a mile above the camp and forced our unwilling 
bronchos into the rapid ^waters up to the saddle skirts. 

Reaching the opposite bank we charged on a double quick and came 
to a halt in the heart of the village, almost tearing down several 
lodges. 

We saw at once that the young bucks did not approve of our uncer- 
emonious entrance, for they all sprang to their feet at once and com- 
menced an excited chattering, hissing and grunting among themselves, 
and giving unmistakable evidence of their anger by signs and ges- 
tures which we, who were sober, understood meant "business." 

Bunton, although pretty drunk, saw it, and at once assumed a de- 
fiant and pugilistic attitude. We at once asked for Standing Elk, 
and found he was not at home, arid in addition to this information 
received an order from a stout young geotlemian, decorated in aesthetic 
colors to "puck-a-chee!" which we understood to mean "Leave 
here !" But we didn't leave; at least just then, but we did conclude 
to move a short time afterwards, and that, too, on a forced march, 
with about a hundred yelling bucks in our rear. 

We spent a few moments visiting around among the tepees, try- 
ing to make friends of wild beasts, but soon found our friendly ad- 
vances were repulsed on every hand, and to add to the fires already 
fanned into a flame, Bunton wanted to fight every Indian who man- 
ifested any hesitancy in shaking hands and giving a hearty response 
to his "How ! How !" The crowd of warriors had by this time col- 
lected in little squads, all in a fever of excitement, talking rapidly and 
shooting fiery glances at us as we passed boldly among them. The 
Agency building stood near the camp, and we soon wandered thither. 
We had hitched our ponies near the shanty, and Brazie and myself 
fully realizing the danger of our situation, and knowing what would 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 



93 



likely soon occur, untied our ponies and were standing near the door 
of the agency. 

A large naked warrior stood at the entrance armed with a sabre, 
which had been whetted to an edge as sharp as a razor, from heel to 
point. The Indians 'were drawing their rations of provisions and 
calico, and it was the guard's duty to see that but a limited number 
entered at once, Krouse was a man who was slow to see d-tnger, 
but when he did see it could meet it as boldly as any person living. 

The crowd of excited warriors gathered in a solid mass near the 
agency, and a young chief had just commenced to address them when 
the crisis came. Bunton had for some moments been engaged in a 
parley with the guard over the possession of his sabre. He wanted 
to see it, and show Mr. Indian how to ''right and left cut," but the 
vigilant guard could not be induced to give it up peaceably. 

All this had been noticed by the other Indians, which increased 
their anger. Bunton finally succeeded in getting hoid of the hilt, 
and in drawing the shurp blade through the Indian's hand, cutting 
his fingers enough to draw considerable blood. 

This was enough. With the first drop of blood a great war whoop 
went up by the guard, which was taken up by all the other redskins, 
and in an instant the air was rent by the deafening shouts of several 
hundred painted warriors. 




"Then we started. Pellmellup the river we went." 

At this instant Standing Elk came dashing down the river, his 
pony covered with foam, and he, also, joined in the chorus of deafen- 
ing whoops. He had been drinking "fire-water" and was ready for 
blood. 

There was no time to be lost. Krouse had by this time taken ref- 
ugejin the log house, while Bunton stood for one whole moment sur- 
rounded by the excited and bloodthirsty crowd, his sabre drawn back 
at arm's length and his Remington revolver clinched tightly in the 
other hand. Thus they stood at bay, when the Agent appeared, and 
in their own language, began to address them. But he only succeed- 



94 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

ed in effc^cting a delay of hostilities, during which we succeeded in 
getting Bun ton on his pony and out of the crowd. 

Then we started. Pell-mell up the river we went, followed by the 
exasperated mob, some on foot, others on barebacked ponies, and all 
armed with bows and arrows, which they let fly at us as we retreated, 
but their arrows, luckily, fell short, and only served to push us along. 

For two miles we were chased, and the pursuit only ended when 
we crossed the river in the neighborhood of the ranche and were 
joined by a detachment of troops who were luckily in the vicinity. 
We did not fire a shot, for we well knew that we were the aggressors, 
and that we would do well to escape punishment at headquarters. 

When we reached the river at the place where we forded, Bunton 
was clinging to the back of his saddle, out of which he had bounced, 
and his long legs were dangling in the neighborhood of the pony's 
he^ls. 

He got a thorough ducking in crossing the river, and it is not nec- 
essary for me to say, was almost sober when we came to a halt near 
the ranche. 

Krouse barred the door when the agent went out, and thus saved 
himself Irom the bloodthirsty Indians, whom the agent succeeded in 
quieting after much persuasion and many threats of bringing the "big 
White Chief and his soldiers down from the fort." 

We learned from this circumstance that it was a good thing to have 
an ex-Judge Advocate and a Commissioned Officer along when there 
was any devilment on hand, for they succeeded nicely in squashing 
the matter, and although old Elk called long and loud for our pun- 
ishment, we never got it. 

And now I am about to close this narrative, and in order to do so, 
must take a long stride and fetch up at Fort Leavenworth again. It 
was on the 23d day of April, 1866," when we gladly bid farewell to 
Laramie, and in a blinding snow storm turned our faces eastward. 

There is a little incident which has just occurred to my mind which 
I must relate beiore we leave the North Platte. 

At Laramie a good many ponies and mules belonging to the Sioux 
were ranging around our camp continually, and among these was a 
splendid black pony with one white leg and a "blazed" face of the 
same snowy whitneess, and also a mule, the constant companion of 
the black horse. Our Irish friend, Flinn, had one eye to business and 
the other on said pony arid mule. He easily secured a partner in his 
enterprise, for a "wee bit ov a speculation," as he termed it, and to- 
gether they laid their plans to capture the aforesaid "strays." 

The night before our start Flinn succeeded in lassooing both, and 
long before day he and his confederate were well on their way toward 
our first camping place below Laramie. Strange to say, the pony 
had not been shaved, that is, his mane had not been " roached,'' and 
his tail "bushed," as were nearly all Indian ponies, but Flinn had a 
pair of shears and he knew well how to use them, and before the sun 
went down that day his mane and tail were beautifully shaved. This 
did not entirely satisfy Flinn, for there was the white leg and blaze 
face. But "necessity is the mother of invention," and something 
must be done with those white spots. Flinn didn't have to study 
long, but procuring some charred wood from an old camping place, 
he soon had that face and leg as black as any part of the pony's body. 



ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 95 

Of course none of us knew the pony when he came up, and many 
questions were asked Flinn. His captain wanted to know where he 
had secured so fine an animal. "Sure an' I bought him uv the 
bloody Frinchman at the ranche, fur $75. An' maby ye'U be wantin' 
to ax me where I sakured the funds, seein' I had no money uv me 
own. But ye have no business to be pryin' into honest payples' af- 
fairs, so ye havn't." And this answer seemed to settle the captain. 

So matters went on all right. The mule disappeared after we had 
passed a west bound wagon train, near Chimney Rock, and Flinn 
seemed to be flush. But he held on to the black pony until we reached 
Willow Springs. Here Flinn came to grief. 

We had hardly settled in camp when the telegraph operator handed 
our commander a dispatch, asking him to lay over until an officer 
and a Sioux Indian could overtake us and search our camp for lost 
stock. 

Of course we could not tell what the delay was for, but we guessed 
its nature. Flinn was perfectly serene and happy. His suspicions 
were not in the least aroused. 

In the afternoon an officer and a stout young Indian came up, and 
after a few moments' talk with the major proceeded to search the 
herd for the pony and mule. Of course the mule could not be found, 
but Mr. Indian soon concluded that the black pony with the freshly 
shaven tail and mane, bor*^ somt^ resemblance toiiis lost pony. But 
heprassed him several times before he concluded to investigate "closely. 

We were all observing the search closely, and there never was a 
more nervous and uncomfortable man in the world than was Flinn 
during those few brief moments. Finally the Indian caught the rope 
which was dragging on the ground and led the pony to the creek. 

"Sure an' what's the bludy Injun goin' to do now ?" 

"Injun give pony heep water; pony heep dry," grunted the Indian 
in reply, as they came to the water's edge. 

"Mr. Injun, I say, ye can't come any uv yer pesky tricks on 
me, an' so ye can't. If the truth was known ye've kilt an' skun 
mony a poor white man, an' ye ought to die the dith uv a schnake 
this minit, an' so ye ought. Stop that, ye bludy hound; w'at ye 
throwin' wather in the nose ov me pony fur?" And as Flinn said 
this he made a dash down the hank for the noble red man, and had 
he not been prevented he w^ould have pushed him headlong into the 
water. But the Indian went on, and in a few moments that water 
was black as night and the pony's face and leg as white as snow. 

" Whooe! White man much sharp— paint face black — no fool In- 
jun," and he led his pony up the bank with an air of triumph. 

"Sure an' the bludv Frinchman has me money an' the thavin' 
Sioux has me horse. But I'll get aven wid thim whin I crass the 
plains agin (which, be dad, wont happen in the next hundred years,") 
remarked Flinn, with a chuckle, as he marched off to camp, while 
the whole command set up a shout and laugh at his bad luck. This 
seemed to settle Flinn, for he did not engage in any more "enter- 
prises" while in the service. 

Our march back across the plains was marked by many adventures 
and incidents which I can not take time to mention. We made good 
time, and when we reached Julesburg we found a city of 3^000 in- 



96 ON THE PLAINS IN '65. 

habitants, which had but three weeks' growth. There waJs but one 
house in the town and that not finished. 

Lots and streets were marked by " end gates " of wagons stuck in 
the ground, numbered and lettered with chalk. Whisky was sold 
from every wagon, and a billiard table and bar occupied the half- 
finished house. 

The inhabitants of this mushroom town had followed the surveyors 
of the Union Pacific Railroad, who had slopped here and were locat- 
ing a bridge over the Platte river. They concluded this was the 
place for a large city, so they squatted and commenced business on a 
grand scale. The "New Julesburg" was located one mile below the 
old town, and has since grown to be quite a "City of the Plains." 

In course of lime we reached Kansas, and our eyes feasted on the 
beauties of early springtime. Her prairies were rich in green grass 
and vast fields of wheat spread out before us like beautiful lakes. 
Our boys declared that this was the paradise of the world, and al- 
most every man formed a resolution to come back as soon as mustered 
out and settle on some of the unclaimed lands through which we 
passed. At Blue rivpra large portion of our command left the road 
and went over onto the Republican river, down which they followed 
to Fort Riley, in Kansas. They asserted, when they joined us again, 
that the "half had not been told." Each of these men selected a 
claim, intending to return from Leven worth, but had to tio to Wheel- 
ing. Manj^ of them did go back, and to-day are enjoying comforta- 
ble homes in the Republican valley. At Leavenworth we turned over 
our little friends, the ponies, amidst much sorrow, for we had formed 
an attachment for them which was hard to bieak off. 

A few day;* after our arrival here, we were mustered out and or- 
dered to Wheeling, W. Va., to receive our pay, and also a Grand Re- 
ception, which the people of West Virginia were desirous of giving 
us in appreciation of our long and honerable service in the army. 

And now let us review,ibriefly, the history of the old 6th West Vir- 
ginia Cavalry. 

As I have said, it was composed of the old 2nd and 3d West Vir- 
ginia Infantry. These regiments were organized on the 1st day of 
July, 1861, and after serving their time nearly out, re-enlisted as the 
5th and 6th West Virginia Cavalry regiments, and were soon after 
consolidated and called the 6th West Virginia Cavalry. 

From the time of enlistment, in 1861, until mustered out of ser- 
vice, in 1866, the men of this regiment participated in the following 
battles and raids: 

Elk Water, September 12, 13 and 14, 1S61 ; Cheat Mountain, De- 
cember 13, 1861 ; Alleghaney Summit, December 15, 1861 ; Montery, 
April 2,1862; Montgomerey, April 8, 1862; Bull Pasture Mountain, 
May 8, 1862; Cross Keys, June 8, 1862; Port Republic, June 9, 1862: 
Strasburg, June 20, 1862; Cedar Mountain, August 14, 1862; Kel- 
)ey 's Ford, August 21 and 22, 1862 ; Lee's Springs, August 23, 1862; 
Waterloo Bridge, August 25, 1862; Bull Run, August 29 and 30, 1862; 
Droop Mountain, September 6, 1862; Beverly, April 23, 1863; Buck- 
hannon, April 26, 1863; Beverly, May 23, 1863; Rocky Gap, August 
26 and 27, 1863; Salem Raid, December 3 to 27, 1863; Cloyd Moun- 
tain, May 10, 1864 ; Lynchburg Raid, June 8 to July 5, 1864; New 



ON THE PLAINS IN 65. 97 

Creek November 28,1864; Sayler's Run, April 3, 1865 ; California 
Crossing:, August 30, 1865. 

The above list does not include a large number of skirmishes of no 
little importance, suchasMedly Farm, Moorefield, Mechanics Gap, 
Petersburg, &c., &c. 

During the service of the reariment there were — 

Killed in action, 301 ; Died of wounds, 214; Discharged by reason of 
wounds, 233 ; Died of disease, 137. Total, 885. 

At the battle of New Creek, November 28, '64, 485 officers and men 
were captured and confined in Libby prison, in Richmond, and in 
the prison pens at Danville, Va., and did not re-join the regiment 
until late in March, '65, which accounts for the command not partici- 
pating more actively in the operations around Richmond which cul- 
minated in the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia, at Ap- 
pomattox. 

We are now in Wheeling, and the boys go about the streets with 
sad faces — sad at the thought of soon parting, no more to meet on 
earth. But there is also joy in the hearts — hearts which had nof felt 
joy for many years. Joy at the thought of soon meeting and em- 
bracing father, mother, sister, brother, dear wife and little loved ones, 
and perhaps a sweetheart was uppermost in the minds of some of the 
boys. But be that as it may, we soon g-ive each other the part- 
ing hand and went forth into the world bearing with us kindly feel- 
ings towards each other— feelina^s which still have a place in our 
hearts, although we cannot see each other, we are still remembered 
kindly. 

And now, where are you boys? Alas! many, whose thread of life 
was strained and weakened by exposure and hardships, have long 
since gone down to early graves. 

Others are passing through life maimed and perhaps poor, and it 
may be destitute, battling with the cold world for a scanty living. 

Others doubtless have grown fat on the world's goods and are 
Nabobs among men of inflaeoce and position. Be our position and 
circumstances in life as they may, let us strive to obey the orders of 
the Great Commander above, and when the final blast of the 
trumpet shall sound, may we all once more "fall in" and each one re- 
spond to his name, when the '*Roll is called" up yo nder. There, let 
us strive to meet again, never to be ''mustered out." 

The Reception at the McClure House was one of the grandest 
affairs ever held in Wheeling. Parting speeches were made by offi- 
cers and privates, and tears glistened in the eyes and ran down over 
sun-browned cheeks which had not felt a tear for many years be- 
fore. It was here the parting scene took place and none of us can 
ever forget it ; nor do we care to forget how tender we felt towards 
each other when we looked each other in the face for the last time. 



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